


Heels Over Head ~ Beyond Fantasy Season Four ~ by Miss Miko

by kellankyle



Series: Heels Over Head - Written by Miss Miko [5]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 04, Alternate Universe - Future, Committed Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellankyle/pseuds/kellankyle
Summary: Gus plays the Easter Bunny in his preschool play.





	1. Here Comes…

An excited three-year-old met them at the door bouncing up and down. "All right," said Brian, "let me get in the house first."

"Daddy! Daddy, look!" He waved something in front of their faces. Something pink and white.

With ears.

"Christ," swore Brian, "please, don't tell me…"

"Gus is playing the Easter Bunny in his preschool play," Lindz announced proudly.

"I told you not to tell me."

Justin pushed Brian from behind, then swooped Gus up in his arms. "Is that right, Gus? Are you gonna be the Easter Bunny?"

"Yeah!" he said excitedly. "I'm gonna hop!" Justin put him down and Gus demonstrated his hop to the amusement of all but Brian, who covered his face.

"Christ."

"Come on," said Justin, pulling his arm. "Get your stuff, Gus," he told the little boy and Gus grabbed his SpongeBob pull-along and started out the door. With his costume under his arm.

Lindsay started to stop him but changed her mind. Handed Brian a piece of typewritten paper. "Here, you can help him practice his part."

Sighing, Brian pushed open the door. "Christ."

"For someone who doesn't give a shit about God, you call on him enough," pointed out Justin.

"Yeah, and that," he indicated Gus and his costume, "is proof that he doesn't exist."

On the way home, Justin and Gus tried to drive Brian crazy by singing, "Here Comes Peter Cottontail". Even threats to put them out of the car while it was still moving did not stop them from singing. Finally, Brian gave up. And drove faster.

As soon as they reached the house, Justin gave Brian Gus' stuff, told his spouse to start dinner, and then he and the toddler hopped in the Cherokee and took off.

Grateful not to have to hear them singing anymore, Brian shrugged off Justin's strange behavior and went inside to plan their evening meal.

By the time he'd finished the salad, pulled the ears of corn out of the pot, and slapped down five turkey burgers on the grill, he heard the car door slam. They were back.

And still singing.

Wondering if he had enough time to ditch them, he decided he'd better stay and attend to the burgers. After all, he didn't want to burn the house down.

As Justin and Gus whizzed through the kitchen, Justin smirked and winked at Brian. Which boded no good. Resigned to finding out sooner or later, Brian endeavored to ignore his husband's good-natured teasing. The younger men set the table and busied themselves with watching Cartoon Network until Brian finished cooking. Then all three carried the food to the table and dinner was served.

One of Gus' favorite meals was turkey burgers so he wasted no time with talking, just lit into his burger as if he hadn't eaten for days. So did Justin. Taking a sip of beer, Brian nibbled on his salad and watched the other two with amusement. Gus had definitely inherited Justin's appetite. When he'd taken the edge off their hunger, Justin said, "I've been looking over Gus' play and I think he needs an Easter dance."

"An Easter dance?"

"Yeah, he can shake his little cottontail."

Brian almost spit out his beer laughing. "You're evil."

"I'm sweet," crooned Justin. "Least that's what you said last night."

"Sex talk," he replied.

"Daddy?" Gus asked Brian.

"Yeah?"

"What's sex?"

This time it was Justin's turn to choke on his drink. But he quickly recovered and warned sotto voce, "Don't even think about it. Three is definitely too young."

So Brian smiled and said, "It's a grown-up game."

"Can I play?"

"When you're older," he promised. "Okay?"

"Okay." Used to hearing, 'When you're older,' Gus went back to happily munching his burger. No game, except maybe Hide-Go-Seek was as good as a burger.

With dinner and, hopefully, all of Gus' questions about sex answered, the three cleaned up and adjourned to the leather sofa where Gus changed into his bunny costume. Brian was hard-pressed not to gag, it was so sickeningly cute. "Did Nana help make this for you?"

"Yeah," replied Gus. "I got a basket, Daddy."

"Oh really?"

"With Easter eggs," he told him.

Brian raised a brow and grinned as if he'd just consumed a troop of Boy Scouts. "Maybe you can teach him how to handle his eggs too," he suggested to Justin.

"You've got more practice," Justin replied.

"I think I need a refresher course."

Justin spread his legs provocatively and promised, "Tonight."

Eyes on his husband's package, Brian's nostrils flared. "Mmmm."

Putting an end to the flirtation before it became necessary to cut rehearsal short and retire upstairs, Justin told Gus to say his lines.

Gus fidgeted for a moment, then stared at Justin blankly.

"I think he's waiting for his cue," Brian suggested.

"Oh." Justin looked on the paper. "Okay, I'll be the teacher and, Brian, you can be all the other kids." Brian looked less than thrilled with his assigned roles. "All right, here we go. Ready?" Gus nodded. "Okay, once upon a time, there lived a bunny rabbit named Peter Cottontail."

Gus smiled and said, "My name is Peter Cottontail," and then he hopped around the room.

"Peter Cottontail was a very important bunny because Peter Cottontail was the Easter Bunny. His job was to bring Easter eggs and candy to all the boys and girls. Every year, Peter and his helpers worked hard making sure they had enough eggs and candy for everyone. Some bunnies made candy," he looked at Brian who rolled his eyes and then pretended to make candy, "and some dyed the eggs they collected from the Easter egg chickens." He leaned over, "Pretend to be a chicken."

"I'll have to reach back deep into my teenage years," Brian quipped but he gamely stood up and flapped his wings and did the Funky Chicken which cracked Gus up.

"After all of the Easter baskets had been filled, it was Peter Cottontail's job to deliver all the baskets to good little boys and girls." Justin began to sing and nudged Brian to sing along. "Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail, hippity hoppity Easter's on it's way." Gus began hopping again around the room, pretending to hide Easter eggs. "Now, dance, Gus. Shake your cotton tail," Justin told him and Gus began to dance but he couldn't quite get the shaking part right. Getting up, Justin said, "Watch me," and he began to dance, shaking his tail quite vigorously. Brian crossed his legs. Justin gyrated his hips and Brian uncrossed and then crossed his legs once again. "Now, you do it."

Gus shook his butt again and this time it looked a lot better.

"There you go. You've got it."

Bopping his head and shaking his cotton tail, Gus danced around the room shouting, "Happy Easter!"

"Don't forget to hide your eggs," Justin called out and Gus nodded and bent down hiding his pretend eggs behind furniture. "Very good." Justin clapped. "All right!" Gus returned and climbed into Justin's lap and giggled as he hid his face in Justin's chest. "You were excellent." Gus beamed and Justin kissed him soundly. "Wasn't he great?"

"The next Sir Laurence Olivier," Brian replied dryly. Then relented and kissed Gus too. "You were great, Sonny Boy."

"Daddy come see?"

"Yeah, we'll be there."

"Now," Justin said, "since you were so good at being Peter Cottontail, how about a treat?"

"Yea!" yelled Gus, clapping his hands. He loved treats.

Justin gave Gus to Brian and got up and took something out of the armoire in the corner. It was a video. He waggled it before opening it up and putting it in. Brian could barely suppress a groan. It was Here Comes Peter Cottontail, one of those old Rankin and Bass specials that used to come on television. "I loved this when I was little," Justin told Gus as the little boy climbed back on his lap. They snuggled up at one end of the sofa and waited for the cartoon to begin. Brian got up.

"I'll make the popcorn."

"Bring me a soda?"

"Me too," said Gus.

Brian tapped him on the nose. "You get juice or milk. Take your pick."

"Juice."

"Yes, sir."

Leaving them to watch their show, Brian made hot air popcorn with lots of melted butter since he knew that's how Justin liked it. Then he tore off a handful of paper towels and carried them into the other room with the popcorn, hoping they'd keep Justin and Gus from getting butter all over the sofa. "Here," he said and then went over to the bar to get Justin's soda and Gus' juice. They were already engrossed in the film by the time he finished with their refreshments. Kissing them each on the head, he went upstairs. Peter Cottontail just wasn't his speed. 

 

Of course, in their eyes, Gus was the best preschooler in the Easter play. He remembered both his lines and his new and improved Easter dance perfectly. Lindsay and Melanie were scandalized when he began shaking his cotton tail but Brian and Justin beamed with pride and Molly just giggled. The audience loved it and went wild, laughing and clapping and egging him on. A ham after his daddy's heart, Gus glowed and waved. They could hardly get him off the stage.

As they waited for him to come out after the play, Melanie said, "Maybe he'll be an actor."

"A celebrity," Brian replied. "They dress better."

All the way to Brian and Justin's place, Gus and Molly sang the Peter Cottontail song until even Brian finally joined in, the toddler's enthusiasm was that infectious.

Nana and Nana Jenn were waiting when they got home with a big surprise for Gus: a stuffed Easter Pooh bear and an Easter Pooh bear cake for after dinner.

"Like me," Gus said, pointing to Pooh's costume.

"Just like you," Jenn assured him.

Joanie and Justin finished up in the kitchen while the rest of the adults and Molly watched as Gus went through his part all over again. By the time he was finished, the doorbell rang and the rest of the gang came in, having come over for Easter dinner. They were a day early but since Joanie generally spent Easter at Mass and Jenn was taking Molly to her grandparents tomorrow, they'd decided to celebrate on Saturday after the play. And since Deb and the gang had missed both of Gus' performances, naturally, he had to do his part again with everyone singing "Here Comes Peter Cottontail" as he danced and hopped around the room. Emmett even joined him, shaking his nonexistent tail.

Watching his son laugh at Em's antics, Brian smiled and then slipped off by himself. Ended up outside smoking a cigarette. He walked the front yard for a while and then sat down on one of the benches under the porch, blowing smoke rings. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Joanie until she was seated next to him. Saying nothing, he acknowledged her with a movement of his head, then put out his cigarette.

"Easter was never like that at our house," said Joanie.

"Nope." He remembered what it was like, another opportunity for the Kinney clan to put the fun in dysfunctional. Year after year, Mass after Mass, family dinner after family dinner, they persisted in making one another miserable until Brian went away to college and vowed never to go through any of it again. And he hadn't. Hadn't celebrated Easter or Thanksgiving or Christmas really until he met Cam and they began to make their own traditions. But that hadn't lasted and he went back to his old ways until Justin came along and changed everything. Justin and Gus.

Joanie brushed back his hair, so fine, and studied his profile, seeing a bit of herself in him, a bit of his father too. "I wish things could have been different."

He shrugged. "I survived." Started to light another cigarette but put it back in his case. "It was just another day."

"Another day for us to get things wrong."

"Well," he chuckled, "at least the Kinneys were consistent." He laughed abruptly. "Remember that time Uncle Seamus pissed in the bushes and when we went out for the Easter egg hunt, Carolyn pulled out one that he had pissed on and the colors had all ran?"

Joanie laughed as well and hid her face. "Poor thing, she looked horrified."

"And Mary Catherine told her it was tie-dyed." They both laughed until they had to wipe their eyes. "That was the best Easter ever," he said through the laughter.

After they quieted down, Joanie patted his knee and said, "I always knew you'd have a family someday and you'd do all the things we should have done."

"You had more faith than I did," he told her. "Cause I never thought I'd do anything right."

"Well, you have." She stood. "And dinner's waiting so come on."

He got up, then bent over and kissed her cheek. "It wasn't all bad, you know?"

"Just a lot of it."

Brian snorted. "Yeah." 

 

He awoke Sunday morning with a pair of bright blue eyes looking down at him. "Happy Easter," Justin said, smiling broadly. "What'd you get me?"

Kissing him first, Brian rolled him out of the way and went into the closet. Burrowed in his chest of drawers and returned with something behind his back. "Close your eyes." Justin did, the excitement almost more than he could bear. Finally, Brian told him, "Open up."

Justin laughed out loud. There was Brian wearing a pair of pink rabbit ears and a rainbow thong. He turned to the side revealing a very fluffy, white bunny tail and raised his brow.

"So?"

"Nice. But I was expecting chocolate."

"I know," Brian said and opened the toy chest. Handed Justin a decorated basket with all sorts of goodies in it.

Tearing off the cellophane, Justin unpacked his gift: chocolate body paint, a chocolate pen, chocolate soap, three tubes of edible frosting, and a tube of flavored lube. "Where are my Easter eggs?" he asked.

"In my basket," replied Brian and Justin grinned and beckoned him to come to bed. Removing his bunny ears, Brian did.

Cupping Brian's crotch, Justin hummed, then pulled down the front of the thong with a smile and peeked in. "Eggs and, ooo, something else. What's that?" He slipped the thong off and tossed it aside.

"Carrot. Every Easter Bunny's got one."

"Looks a little limp." He wrapped his hand around the middle and kissed the tip. "Let's do something about that, shall we?"

"Let's," replied Brian with a sigh as Justin continued to kiss him.

French kissing Brian's dick, he stroked the shaft, feeling it stiffen and thicken in his fist as his kisses deepened and his tongue foraged in the ever widening opening.

Thighs spread and back arched, Brian held onto both the headboard and Justin's nape as his cock continued to harden. He'd never had anyone make him as hard as quickly as Justin could. Before he knew it, he'd be whimpering, aching to come between his talented lips. But he knew that was not to be, not yet.

Sure enough, as soon as his dick was able to stand upright unaided, Justin sat up and reached for the jar of chocolate body paint. Dipping in his brush, he coated Brian's cock and balls with the rich, chocolate sauce. The only place he didn't paint was the very tip. To aid in the chocolate's drying process, he blew on his creation. Within minutes, a thin shell had formed the way it did on dipped ice cream cones. Then he took out the tubes of frosting and decorated his Easter eggs and his Easter carrot with swirls and dots and wavy lines. Finally, he wrote on Brian's belly with his chocolate pen, "Happy Eater!"

Looking down, Brian frowned. "I think you forgot the s."

"Uh-uh," said Justin and smiled. And began to eat. Happily. Starting with his eggs, he licked the paint and frosting from Brian's sac and then sucked each of his balls until Brian buckled beneath him. He gave the one in his mouth a tug and Brian shouted and grabbed the sheets in his fists. His cock was hard against his belly and drooling, precum oozing out of the tip, giving the chocolate shell a gloss when it touched the clear liquid.

Justin held his cock up and watched the precum drip down the chocolate shaft. Carefully, he spread it with his fingers. Then studied his work appreciatively. "You know that video we watched where the guy got fucked with a carrot?" Brian grunted. "I've always wanted to get fucked by a carrot." He opened the lube and squeezed it over the tip, then got on his belly and raised his ass.

Brian lubed a finger, then massaged Justin's hole until it relaxed and he could slip inside. He fingered Justin until his lover writhed below him, trying to take more of the probing digit inside him. Easing his finger out, Brian held onto Justin's hips and mounted him.

They fucked like bunnies, Justin's tail bouncing up and down as Brian reamed his ass. Tight against Justin, Brian grunted as his lover squeezed his muscles around his cock. Nobody could work an ass the way Justin could.

Pulling out, Brian flipped Justin over and grabbed his legs, slung them over his shoulders, and rammed him again. Justin cried out at the invasion but soon began raising his hips to meet Brian's hard thrusts. Chocolate smeared both Brian's groin and Justin's buttocks. The young man arched his back and moaned. He loved messy, sloppy fucking. Opening the jar of chocolate sauce, he poured some onto his cock and began tugging on his dick. Brian licked his lips, then reached for his partner's cock, taking over from Justin. As he fucked his ass, he jacked his cock until Justin's ring gripped Brian's dick so tight, the man shouted. Justin's cock jumped in his hand and spurted loads of thick cream. Running his fingers through the muck, Justin smeared some on his face, then licked his fingers clean. With a loud groan, Brian crouched over him and pumped him hard. Came in his ass.

When their limbs stopped trembling, they grabbed the bar of chocolate soap and headed for the shower. The fun wasn't over. There, inside the stall, they took turns lathering one another up with the delicious smelling soap and then each licked it from the other's body. Brian especially enjoyed bending Justin over and spreading his cheeks, licking the chocolate suds from his still swollen hole. And Justin thrilled to kneel at Brian's feet and suck his chocolate-covered cock to hardness again. Taking the soap in hand, he rubbed it over his ass, then fingered his hole, sighing as he opened up once more.

"Fuck me," he commanded, parting his cheeks and Brian complied, slamming into him and riding his ass until they were both exhausted. Dropping his load, Brian pulled free, then went onto his knees and gave Justin a blow job that had him screaming by the time he came.

Brian licked his lips and smiled. "Mmm, creamy filling." Held Justin's balls in his hands. "Must be Cadbury's."


	2. Spare the Rod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian punishes Justin.

Justin ran his hand up Brian's calf and along his inner thigh. Smiled softly and rested his palm on his hip. The mellifluous notes of George Duke playing piano floated on the air.

"I like that," Brian said.

"The music or this?" asked Justin, stroking his skin.

"Do I have to choose?"

"Not for a hundred years or so." Beckoning with tongue, Justin waited for Brian to kiss him. As Brian's mouth crushed his, he tightened his grip on his ass and pulled him closer. He could feel the first stirrings of desire in them both. It was as if each beat of his heart was answered by Brian's throbbing pulse. "I want you," he whispered and Brian rolled him over onto his back.

The door opened and Gus came running in, Leo padding behind him. "Daddy!"

"Oh, fuck," grumbled Brian, pulling the comforter over them both. Gus had to have the God awfullest worst timing in the free world. He sat up in bed as the toddler climbed up onto the mattress. "What?"

Gus scrambled onto his lap. "Daddy, the booga man under my bed," the little boy told him, gripping him tightly.

Shaking his head, Brian glared at his partner. "I told you not to let him watch that movie."

Sorry, mouthed Justin. He and Gus had watched Monsters, Inc. that evening while Brian had worked in his study. Brian had warned him that Gus would have bad dreams after seeing it but Justin had assured him that Gus was a big boy who didn't believe in monsters. Uh-huh.

"Gus," Brian explained patiently, much more patiently than either he or Justin would have imagined he could be considering the state of arousal they'd been in just moments before, "there's no such thing as monsters. They don't exist. It was just a movie. There's nothing under your bed."

"Except dust bunnies," Justin said carelessly.

Brian glared at him again.

"Bunnies?" asked Gus, eyes wide with excitement.

"No bunnies either," Brian assured him. "Okay?"

Gus shook his head. "Come see."

"Gus…"

"Come see," he said and tugged on Brian's arm.

As he shrugged on his robe, Brian whispered in Justin's ear, "You're getting it big time. And not in a good way," he added. Then he and Gus and Leo traipsed over to Gus' room where he lifted the little boy's bed and proved to him that there was nothing under his bed. "Satisfied?" Gus pointed to the closet. Brian opened it and showed him that there was nothing in there but his clothes. Before Gus could say it, he cut on the bathroom light and they made a tour of that space as well as the guestroom. "All right?"

Gus nodded. "I want to sleep with you."

"You can sleep in your own bed. You and Leo. Come on, get in." He drew back the covers and Gus got into bed. Brian found Beh and tucked him in as well. Leo took up his position at the foot of the race car. "There. You've got Beh and Leo to look after you. They'll make sure nothing comes in." He kissed him on the forehead and made sure the night light was on before cutting out the overhead light. "Go to sleep."

"Nite nite."

"Nite nite." Paused with the door cracked. "I love you."

"I love you, Daddy," came a tiny voice from the darkness, sounding a little scared and Brian almost relented but, in the end, his parental instincts told him that he was doing the right thing and he left Gus and his posse to sleep in their own bed. When he returned to his room, he found Justin looking contrite.

"Sorry." He plucked the comforter. "I keep forgetting he's still a baby in some ways."

"Yeah. Don't let the vocabulary fool you." Smiled proudly. "Or the long legs." Gus towered above most of the other kids in preschool Lindsay told him.

"Speaking of which…" Justin reached between the halves of Brian's robe and brushed his fingers over Brian's thigh. Brian pulled away.

"I told you, you're going to be punished." His eyes were dead serious.

Biting his lip, Justin lowered his head, then looked up, his eyes glinting. His pulse had begun to race a bit. "How many?"

"How many do you think you deserve?" Brian asked, reclaiming his place at the head of the bed. Justin held up four fingers. Brian shook his head. Justin added two more fingers. Still not enough. Two more fingers. Brian twisted his lips and Justin added two more fingers. "That's more like it." He waited while Justin went to the toy chest. Took out a paddle, holding it with uncertainty. "You know which one," Brian said and he put it back and took out a slender cane with a wooden handle. "Bring it here." He got up on his knees. Justin handed him the cane and got on the bed. Assumed the position, down on his hands and knees, butt up in the air. With one hand on the back of Justin's neck, Brian ran the cane over his partner's ass, moving it in circles over his creamy skin. "Now," he said in a low voice that sent shivers up Justin's spine, "I'm going to spank you. Do you know why?"

"Yes, Daddy," came the faint reply.

Brian's cock twitched. It made his head swim when Justin called him Daddy. But he had to stay focused on the task at hand. "Why?"

"For not listening to you."

"Exactly," said Brian and he raised the cane and brought it down on Justin's ass where his buttocks met his thighs. Justin flinched but Brian's hand on his neck kept him in place. "I'm not angry with you," Brian told him as he struck him again, "but the next time I tell you something, I want you to listen to me. Do you understand?" he asked, striking Justin on the very apex of his ass.

"Yes, Daddy," said Justin, breathing quickly, trying to absorb the pain while Brian continued to land measured blows on his buttocks. He could feel the tears burning his eyes and he knew that in a moment his face would be wet. Brian was only halfway through and his ass felt like it was on fire. Clenching his jaw, he whimpered as Brian gave him the last five strokes.

Brian put aside the cane and gathered Justin in his arms and held him as he wept with relief. When Justin was through, Brian laid him across his lap and got a bottle of lotion from his nightstand, squeezed a bit in his palm and then gently smoothed it onto Justin's reddened skin. "Better?"

"Yes." Despite having just gotten his ass caned, he was sprouting a hard-on.

"You know that I love you."

"I love you too." He knelt between Brian's legs and they kissed, Brian gently stroking his incipient erection, fingers slick with lotion. Justin gasped as Brian used both hands on him, pulling on his shaft and fondling his balls.

"You'll be a good boy for Daddy from now on?"

"Yes."

"Say it," he said, using the tip of his pinky to dig into Justin's pisshole.

"I'll be good, Daddy!" He began panting, jerking in Brian's grip. He could feel the cum churning in his testicles. Brian released his balls but only to take hold of his shaft and keep him steady as he continued to play in his hole. Justin threw back his head. "Oh, God, Daddy. Oh, Daddy…" Brian ran a finger along the underside of his cock and then tugged on the head.

"I love my little boy's cock."

"Fuck me," begged Justin. "Fuck me, Daddy."

Brian used some lotion to lube his cock which was hard and pointing towards his belly. "Come on," he growled and Justin positioned his ass over the dripping tip. Brian grabbed him by the waist and forced him down on his cock. Justin cried out as he was pierced. "Take it," Brian commanded and Justin pushed down.

"Daddy…" Brian was sliding up him and he was losing his mind. When Brian had entered him completely, he rested his head against his lover's shoulder. 'I love you."

"Show me, Baby," said Brian and he held on while Justin began fucking himself on his cock. The young man bucked over him, jamming his ass on Brian's cock once he'd loosened up a bit. Sweat rained down on Brian as Justin bounced on him. "Oh, yeah, Baby. Oooo…"

Justin pushed down and tightened his hole. Relaxed and began swaying his hips, rubbing his cock against Brian's stomach. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Every time his cock stroked Brian's skin, he shouted until the tension choked his voice.

Justin riding his cock like a desperado, Brian was aching to come. When Justin rose up, he smacked his ass. Hard. The sound echoed in the room along with Justin's moans. Again he stuck him. Thwack. And Justin threw back his head and grunted. Cum slid down Brian's sweaty skin and he continued to spank his lover until only a drop remained hanging off the tip of Justin's cock. Giving him a moment to collect himself, Brian then had him get on his hands and knees again. Facing the foot of the bed. Parting his red cheeks, Brian stabbed his swollen hole and fucked him hard and fast, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He pulled out and came on Justin's ass, his jizz streaking his rosy behind. Cupping Justin's ass, he rubbed his cum into his skin.

Later, as they lay together, Justin stretched out on top of Brian and kissed his throat. "Thank you."

Brian smiled in the darkness, palm curved around Justin's behind. "Any time, Baby. Any time."


	3. Prince Gus & the Feline Cavalier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin meets a children's librarian and contributes a story for Story Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday fic for my friend, Adrianne.

With the new baby taking up so much of the mommies' time, Brian decided to institute a Big Boys' Day Out to keep Gus from feeling less than special now that he was no longer an only child. Twice a month Gus got to go out with his daddies and do whatever he wanted—within reason; no surprise trips to Disney World to see the Big Cheese but if he wanted to go to the zoo or the aquarium, that could be arranged and Brian swore he wouldn’t complain. A lot.

So, on the second Saturday of the month, Brian and Justin found themselves going to the public library. It seemed Gus had fallen deeply in like with the children's librarian. After his mommies and Nanas and Deb, she was his favorite female person, supplanting even Molly, Rennie and Daphne.

"Maybe he is straight," said Justin as he unfastened Gus’ seat belt, releasing the little boy from his backless booster seat in the back. At five he no longer required a baby car seat, something he was very happy about as he was very anxious to be a big boy like his daddies.

"Bite your tongue," Brian retorted. "I was in love with my kindergarten teacher and look at me."

"A woman?"

"A nun. Close enough."

As soon as he was freed from the car, Gus began to laugh and dance around, singing, "Miss A'drin," and skipping towards the building, his fathers jogging to keep up with him.

When they did, Brian scolded him. "Gus, haven't I told you about running off without us?" They had this same conversation almost every time they took the little boy out.

Big, hazel eyes upturned and shiny, Gus replied, "Yes;" but before Brian could say anything else, Gus added, "But Miss A'drin, Daddy," as if that explained and excused his behavior.

Nudging his husband, Justin said, "He's excited."

"Last time I got that excited, you were wearing a thong and a smile."

Justin's cheeks went pink. "Brian, behave."

Gus turned to them as they entered the library and put his finger to his lips. "Shh. Got to be quiet, Daddy."

O-kay, mouthed Justin silently and let himself be tugged through the main part of the library to the Children's section which was self-contained behind a garishly painted door.

As said door closed behind them, Gus announced, "Now you can talk."

Brian marveled at the brightly colored posters hung from the ceiling and walls and the multicolored furniture. "They must have used Deb's decorator."

"Bright colors are stimulating," Justin explained.

Stepping out of the way of a pint-sized tornado who was apparently on a mission to snag her favorite toy from an overflowing chest, Brian replied dryly, "I can tell."

Meanwhile Gus cried out, "Miss A'drin! Daddy, Miss A'drin!" He pulled on Justin's hand and led him to where a dark-haired woman stood going through a cart of books. "Hi," Gus said shyly as she turned.

"Hello, Gus. Are you here for Story Time?"

"Yes."

"Did you bring guests?" she asked, eying the two men with him.

"My daddy and my daddy," he told her.

Having heard all about Gus' family from Lindsay and Mel, the librarian wasn't surprised by the appearance of two fathers. However, she hadn't realized how young one of them was. Still, she held out her hand. "I'm Adrianne Noroian, the Children's Librarian."

"Brian Kinney."

"Justin Taylor-Kinney."

"Gus really likes Story Time," she told them.

Brian smirked. "Gus really likes you."

"He's a sweet little boy."

Both men chuckled at that. She'd obviously only dealt with Good Gus.

The tot in question tugged on Miss Adrianne's shirttail.

"Yes, Gus?"

"My daddy tells good stories."

"Does he?"

"Yeah. He draws pictures too."

Unsure as to which daddy he was referring to, she gazed at both hoping the correct one would speak.

Justin did. "I graduated from PIFA this past spring."

"He's a genius," Brian boasted.

"An unemployed genius."

"You're an artist, you create," Brian told him.

Adrianne, hating to butt in but sensing the two men had had this particular conversation before, said, "Have you ever considered writing children's books?" By now Gus had tired of the adults' talk and went in search of kids to play with until Story Time began.

Justin shrugged. "Not really. The stories I tell Gus, they're just things I make up at the spur of the moment."

Brian rolled his eyes. "What do you think writers do?"

"Brian…"

"He's right. All you'd have to do is write them down and illustrate them."

"And get them published," added Justin.

"We know a publisher," Brian reminded him. Not only did they know a publisher but Frank was a neighbor and a friend.

"I don't think kids would be interested in those stories."

"Gus certainly seems impressed," said Adrianne.

But Justin waved away her comment with, "He's biased. They're about him and Leo. Our cat," he explained. "They're fairy tales and Gus is a prince and Leo is kind of a Puss in Boots character."

"Oh," exclaimed Adrianne, "kids love Puss in Boots. Did you see Shrek 3?"

"We have it on speed dial on the DVD player," joked Brian. "It's Gus' favorite movie."

Checking her watch, Adrianne announced, "I have to get ready for Story Time but I have a proposition for you. If you'd like, you could come and test your stories out on the kids, see if they'd go over with the 3-6 crowd. We'd have to preview them first to make sure the content is appropriate for the age group but other than that, we'd love to have you come."

Brian caught Justin's eye but suppressed his comment. Too easy.

Ignoring the double entendre, Justin gave the offer serious thought. "I'd have to see what I could remember of the stories, maybe draw some pictures…"

"He'll accept," Brian said for him.

Not taking Brian's answer as Justin's, Adrianne asked, "Mr. Taylor-Kinney?"

"Give me a couple of weeks to get something to you."

Shaking his hand and Brian's, she said, "Great. Are you staying for Story Time today?"

"Might as well see what the crowd is like," suggested Brian.

Justin turned to see if his husband was still standing next to him or if he'd been replaced by a pod. He'd expected Brian to want to go back into the main part of the library to wait for Gus to finish with Story Time.

"Come on," said Brian, "let's find a spot. In the back."

"No making out back there; this is a rated G playroom," Adrianne warned and then laughed as she turned back to her cart of books. 

 

 

For the next two weeks Justin sequestered himself in his studio working on his story and the accompanying illustrations. Over the years since the very first time he'd ever told Gus about the land of Liberty and its two kings and their son, his stories had covered everything from the magical to the mundane, from flying horses to missing lockets, heroic quests to playing in the ocean. But for this first public introduction to the characters, Justin wanted to do something special. He wanted the stories to have meaning beyond just entertainment, after all, the characters were based on them, on their family and nothing meant more to him than that, not even his art.

Brian poked his head in the conservatory. "Dinner's ready."

Putting a few finishing touches on his watercolor drawing, Justin got up and stretched, then joined his partner in the family room. The table was already set, the food plated. Beaming at Brian, Justin said, "You're such a good husband."

"You'll make it up to me later tonight."

"I'm through working for the evening. I could make it up to you sooner."

Brian smirked. "You know me, I'm always up for it. Sooner and later."

Justin grinned, then focused his attention on dinner. He was starving. He hadn't eaten since lunch. 

 

 

Having dropped the story off at the library a few days ago, Justin was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. He tried to tell himself that even if the story wasn't right for the library's Story Time, it didn't mean he was a no-talent hack. He tried to tell himself that but he didn't know if he was listening. As difficult as it was, he tried to keep his anxieties to himself; the last thing he wanted was a lecture from Brian. Although Brian never pushed him to be more than he was, he knew Brian had high expectations of him. He believed in Justin and his talent and, in his mind, it was only a matter of time before the world recognized what he already knew: that Justin was a gifted artist. A few of his works had already been selected for group exhibitions in the area. Brian assured him that a New York showing wouldn't be far behind. A year or two, pay your dues and, eventually, the word of mouth and positive reviews in the local papers would lead up to bigger venues and the Big Apple.

Justin knew that he was fortunate to have a spouse who not only supported him financially but, who more importantly, believed in him. For that, and a thousand other reasons, he loved Brian more than he had words or pictures to express. It was his only failing, in his own mind, that he could not tell or show Brian just how much he meant to him. Which Brian would say was bullshit: Justin showed him everyday how much he loved him, just by sharing his life.

A life that now included two children. Even though he wasn't related to the kids by blood, he couldn't have loved them anymore if he were. And Brian didn't consider him any less their father than he did himself. Maybe another man might have, a man who'd wanted to be a father, who'd tied all of his self worth up in the idea of fatherhood, but Brian was more than willing to share his children with Justin. There was, in his eyes, no distinction between him and Justin. Indeed, the only thing that tipped the scales in Brian's favor was that both children resembled him. Gus was almost the spitting image of him and Indy, the baby, had both his coloring and hazel eyes.

Sitting in his studio, lazily sketching yet another portrait of his beloved, Justin reflected on his life and it was good.

The sound of the phone ringing disturbed his thoughts and unconsciously he frowned as he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Taylor-Kinney, this is Adrianne Noroian, the Children's Librarian."

"Call me Justin. Mr. Taylor-Kinney is a mouthful even for me."

"So, Justin, are you ready for Story Time?"

Panic set in. "This week?" he squeaked. "Wait, you like the story?"

"I love the story and I think the kids will too."

"You don't think the subject matter is too controversial?"

"This is a library. It's full of controversial materials."

"What about the more conservative elements in the community?"

"Justin, the most controversial book in the world is the Bible."

He laughed. He hadn't thought of it quite that way. "So, am I up this week?" he asked in what he hoped was a confident voice but what he knew for a fact was not.

Chuckling, Adrianne assured him that he'd have a week to prepare. "Next week. I just wanted to give you the heads up. If you don't feel that you're ready to take on a gaggle of giggling youngsters, I can read the story for you. But," she added, "it'll mean so much for the kids to hear you read your own words. And for you to be there if they have any questions. They’re a pretty smart bunch. By the way, we'll put up notices next week alerting parents to some of the issues raised in your story so they can choose not to have their kids attend or they can accompany their children if they like."

He was instantly alarmed. "I don't want this to turn into some kind of political rally."

"And it won't be. This is just library admin's way of covering their asses, excuse my French. Fortunately, we live in a very progressive neighborhood. Gus isn't the only child with same sex parents. He may be the only one with four gay parents but we haven't taken a survey yet so we can't be sure."

Her candor and humor lessened his anxiety and Justin gave his word that he'd be at Story Time next weekend, illustrations in hand. 

 

The moment Brian walked through the door, he was leapt upon. "You know," he complained as he staggered, "you're not a winsome youth anymore."

"Asshole," Justin said as he thumped him on the shoulder, "I haven't gained a pound since you met me."

Giving him a kiss, Brian smiled. "You're still my little boy." In more ways than one.

"Love me?"

"Tremendously. Now, get the hell off of me before I get a hernia." He let Justin down and leaned against the wall. "So? What's up?"

"They agreed to let me read my story next weekend."

"Of course, they did," Brian pronounced as if any other decision was unthinkable.

"We gotta make sure we get Gus next Saturday."

"Call the Ladies Who Munch and let them know." Brian started upstairs to change and put away his briefcase when he paused. Slipped an arm around Justin's neck and gently kissed him. "I'm proud of you."

"I know. Go change. Dinner'll be ready in half an hour."

"We should go out. Celebrate."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "Next weekend. If the kids like it, then we'll go out and celebrate."

"We'll have Gus," Brian reminded him.

"So we'll celebrate at Chuck E. Cheese. It'll be appropriate," said Justin as Brian frowned.

"Why the fuck people buy food from a rat I'll never know. A rat in the house is a bad thing but a rat selling pizza is okay." He shook his head on the way upstairs. 

 

"So," Brian asked over dinner, "if the rug rats like your story, are you going to speak to Frank?"

"Maybe." He'd learned all about being noncommittal from his spouse.

But his spouse wasn't taking 'Maybe' for an answer. "I want you to talk to him."

After a moment, "All right." It was funny, things he wouldn't do for himself, he'd do for Brian. He supposed Brian was the same way. In fact, he knew he was. 

 

 

With the kids finally settled down on the story rug, Justin began his story with that most traditional of openings:

"Once upon a time in a land not so far away, there lived a king and his consort and their son. King Charming and King Sunshine ruled the land of Liberty and one day Prince Gus would rule the land as well. For the moment though, Prince Gus was just a little boy. His best friend was a beautiful golden-colored cat named Leo. Now Leo wasn't just any old cat, he was special. He could talk and he walked on two legs just like people. Leo was very brave and very smart and they called him the Feline Cavalier because he was a cat and a great swordsman."

Taking out the first of his illustrations, Justin pointed to the different characters. "Here's King Charming and his consort, King Sunshine."

"What's a concert?" one of the children asked.

"Consort means that King Sunshine was King Charming's husband and ruled the land with him." Turning back to the illustration, he changed pictures. "And this is Prince Gus and Leo the Feline Cavalier."

Enough of the kids had seen Shrek 2 and 3 and immediately fell in love with Leo. Some of them also noticed that the picture of Prince Gus looked exactly like Gus who was sitting in the audience. "That's me!" shouted Gus, pointing to the illustration. Justin was hard-pressed to continue with the story as most of them wanted him to pass around the picture of Gus and Leo but Adrianne stepped in and reminded them that there would be other pictures of the two later in the story.

"Prince Gus lived in a palace with his two fathers, King Charming and King Sunshine, although he also had two mommies who lived in a house in the city surrounding the castle. He loved having his own room in the castle but he also liked visiting his mommies because he had a room in their house as well." There were pictures of Gus' room in both the castle and the house and the kids agreed that it was good to have two rooms and twice as many toys.

"Just like other boys and girls, Gus spent most of his day learning things. He learned how to read and write and add and subtract and how to multiply and do long division. But, because he was a prince, he also learned how to ride a horse and use a bow and arrows, how to fight with a sword, and how to be king. Even though there as a lot to learn, he still managed to have fun with Leo everyday." He showed them a picture of Gus and Leo on the swings.

"One day as Prince Gus and Leo were returning from playing in the garden, King Sunshine called him into King Charming's study.

" 'Gus,' said King Charming, 'we’re having visitors to the land of Liberty.'

" 'Who?' asked Gus.

" 'A neighboring king and his family are paying a visit to our kingdom.'

" 'When are they coming?'

" 'Tomorrow,' replied King Sunshine, 'and we have a very important job for you and Leo.'

" 'What?' they both asked.

" 'The king has a little girl about your age. Would you and Leo play with her and make her feel welcome in our home?' asked King Charming.

"Gus felt very grown-up and proud that his father had trusted him with such an important job. 'I'll play with her, Father.'

" 'Good boy,' said the king. 'I knew we could depend on you.'

" 'They'll be arriving after breakfast,' said King Sunshine. 'We'll meet them in the Throne room and then you can show Princess Precious around the castle.'

" 'Precious?' asked Gus with a giggle. 'Her name is Precious? What a funny name.'

" 'You mean funnier than Charming or Sunshine?' King Sunshine asked and Prince Gus realized that he was right. What might sound funny to him wouldn't necessary sound funny to other people and other people might think that their names were funny, even a name like Gus. To them, Gus might be as funny as naming your child Asparagus or Windowsill."

The children giggled at the idea of being named after a vegetable. One little boy turned to Gus and asked, "Is your name Asparagus?" and Gus, ever the joker, said, "Yeah," and laughed along with the other kids who'd heard the exchange. Leave it to Brian Kinney's kid to know how to work a room. Even if it wasn't the backroom.

"So," continued Justin, "the next morning Prince Gus and Leo got up and put on their very best clothes and had breakfast with the kings and then went to greet their royal visitors." He held up an illustration of a family. "The Herald announced them.

" 'Introducing the King and Queen of Freeland and Princess Precious.'

"Both King Charming and King Sunshine rose from their thrones and bade their visitors welcome."

"Why did they bathe them?" a little girl with red hair and freckles asked.

"They bade them," Justin told her. "That means they told them that they were welcome in the court."

"Oh."

Brian smiled from the back. He supposed Justin would be making some revisions to his story.

"While the grownups talked, Gus took Princess Precious on a tour of the castle beginning with his room. 'It's very nice,' said Precious in that tone of voice that people use when they don't really think something is nice but they're being polite.

" 'I also have a room in my mommies' house,' Gus explained.

" 'You what?' she asked.

" 'I have a room in my mommies' house. It's not as big as this room but I like it.'

" 'You have a very strange family,' Precious said, looking down at him even though he was a couple of inches taller.

" 'What's so strange about it?' asked Leo, who didn't like Princess Precious one bit. He thought she was a snob and a nitwit.

" 'Well, in my family we have a mother and a father. My best friend Lady Anne has a mother and a father. My cousins all have a mother and a father. One mother and one father, that's what people have. And they live together in the same house. That's a family. Two of your parents aren’t even your parents,' she said and went out of the room, bored with it and the conversation.

"Gus looked sad. 'Leo,' he asked, 'do you have more than one mother and father?'

" 'No, but—'

" 'Maybe no one else does but me.'

" 'That makes you special,' Leo said, hoping to cheer Gus up.

" 'No, it makes me different.' The little prince sighed. 'And, sometimes, different isn't good.' Reluctantly, he went in search of Precious.

"They found her fingering a tapestry on the wall. 'Not bad,' she pronounced. Then, seeing Leo, she said, 'And another thing, most people have other people to be friends with, not a cat.'

" 'But Leo's special,' Gus argued.

" 'No,' she argued, 'just different.'

" 'Don't listen to her, Gus.' Leo watched as Princess went off to find something else to criticize. 'She's a nitwit.'

"But Precious' words seemed to go right through Gus' heart. The rest of the morning he dutifully showed his guest around the castle but anyone who knew him could tell that he was sad. The Cook, who was a beautiful lady with long, curly black hair," Justin showed them a picture, "offered them each a cookie which Precious refused saying it would ruin her figure. Since she didn't take one, Gus didn't either. Leo, who had taken his and eaten it, wiped the crumbs from his mouth and counted the minutes until their visit with Princess Precious would be over."

"She's not very nice," said the same red-headed little girl.

"No, she's not very nice at all," agreed Justin. "After leaving the kitchens, Gus and Leo took Precious into the garden where they normally played for hours. She took one look at it and found a suitable bench and perched on it, not wanting to get her clothes dirty. Leo tried to get Gus to swing with him or to play Hide-and-Go-Seek but Gus felt uncomfortable with Precious sitting there watching them. He felt as if she were waiting for him to do something stupid so she could point it out. In the end, they all just sat on benches and pretended to enjoy themselves.

"Finally, it was time for lunch and the children and Leo went back inside and into the smaller formal dining room where they were reunited with the adults who all looked as if they'd eaten something unpleasant, especially the King and Queen of Freeland. That look only got worse when King Sunshine took his seat next to King Charming and kissed him. The King and Queen stared at the two men as if they each had two heads and Precious caught Gus' eye and smirked."

A little boy raised his hand. "What's smirked?"

"Ah, it means she smiled like this," and Justin gave them his best imitation of a Brian smirk: lips pressed together in a crooked smile, which made the children laugh. Brian was not amused. "Everyone was very glad when lunch was over and the King and Queen and Princess were on their way home. The two kings waved to their guests as they drove away in their carriage and the moment they were out of sight, stopped waving and went inside and up to their bedchamber. King Charming took off his crown and put his feet up. 'I'm glad that's over.'

" 'Me too,' said King Sunshine even though he normally liked entertaining. 'Gus, did you enjoy your visit with Precious?' They both looked around when Gus didn't answer. He wasn't there. They were so used to him coming with them that they hadn't noticed that he hadn't come upstairs.

" 'I wonder where he is,' said Charming.

" 'He and Leo are probably out playing now that guard duty is over.'

"But Gus wasn't with Leo at all. He'd told Leo that he wanted to be by himself for a while and left his friend downstairs. Leo went up to Gus' room and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited." Justin showed the kids a series of illustrations of Leo in Gus' room. "He played with the toy soldiers, he drew some pictures, he read a book, and still Gus did not return. Finally, Leo went looking for him. He searched the entire castle, including the garden, but he did not find his friend. Thinking that maybe Gus was with his fathers, he went to their bedchamber and knocked. A voice told him to enter. He found them inside sitting by a fire and talking.

" 'What is it, Leo?' asked King Charming.

" 'Have you seen Gus?'

" 'We thought the two of you were off playing,' King Sunshine said.

" 'He said he wanted to be by himself. He's been gone for a long time.'

" 'Was something wrong? Did you two argue?' King Charming asked, knowing the two friends sometimes had spats, most friends did. Even he and King Sunshine occasionally argued." Justin heard a snort from the back and knew it was Brian.

" 'I think,' Leo said, 'he was sad because of the things Princess Precious said.'

" The King looked troubled. 'What kinds of things?'

"And so Leo told them what she had said and the two kings got angrier and angrier. Finally King Charming said, 'That's it! No more visits.'

" 'From the King and Queen of Freeland?' asked Sunshine.

" 'From anyone,' said Charming which was a little silly as they were kings and had obligations.

"Sunshine knew that his consort was only upset so he gave a peck on the cheek. 'Let's go find Gus.'

"They looked everywhere they could think of around the palace but they couldn't find him. After an hour, the three regrouped, the two kings looking very worried.

" 'We'll find him,' King Charming assured King Sunshine.

" 'We'll send out the palace guards,' said Sunshine.

" 'No, they would alarm everyone and would probably scare him to death when they found him. We'll call our friends and have them search. Besides, they know all of his favorite spots, he's bound to be in one of them.'

"So the kings had their messengers send to all of their friends, including Gus' mothers, to let them know that Gus was missing and would they please help look for him. As soon as each person got the message, they went out searching for the missing prince. His mommies were especially upset and came to the castle wanting to know what had happened. After Leo told them what Princess Precious had said to Gus, they too declared that the royal family of Freeland was banned from the land of Liberty even though they didn't have the power to do so.

"As evening approached both the Kings and Gus' mommies grew more and more worried about him. More than anything they wanted to see their little boy safe and sound at home. No one gave up looking for him even though they were tired and hungry. Leo went around to all the places in town where he and Gus used to visit and asked everyone if they'd seen his friend. No one had. Sad and not wanting anyone to see him cry, Leo went to a little park where he and Gus had sometimes played. He sat in a swing and remembered all the fun he and Gus used to have. The tears began to fall down his cheeks and he wondered if he'd ever see his friend again.

"Suddenly he heard a sound. As if someone were saying, 'Psst.' Leo looked around but he didn't see anyone. Then he heard it again. 'Psst.' Finally, he said, 'Who's there?'

" 'It's me,' said the voice from a bush and Leo jumped from his swing and ran towards it. He had found Gus." Justin showed them a picture of Leo and Gus hugging and the kids cheered.

" 'We looked all day for you,' Leo told Gus. 'Why did you hide from us?'

" 'I guess I thought no one would care.'

"Thinking that his friend was not making much sense, Leo convinced him to come home. Although he knew that he'd get a scolding when he did go, Gus agreed that the time had come to go back to the palace. When he got there his parents were in the middle of telling everyone that they could go home, that they would resume the search tomorrow. Gus could hear the sadness in King Charming's voice and he knew that King Sunshine would be standing next to him, holding his hand. Then he heard one of his father's friends, Sir Michael, say, 'No, my Lord, we will continue the search through the night.'

"Gus and Leo came into the throne room. 'You won't have to,' he said and all four of his parents rushed to him and hugged him before they began questioning him as to where he'd been. He told them that he'd been walking around most of the day and then he'd gone to the park and fallen asleep.

" 'Why didn't you come home?' asked King Charming. 'We were so worried about you.'

" 'I didn't think anyone would miss me.'

"King Sunshine kissed him and asked, 'Why would you think that? We love you very much.'

" 'Precious said that we weren't a real family so I thought you wouldn't care.' "

"King Charming took the little boy in his arms. 'Do you know how many people love you and care about you? How many people spent hours and hours looking for you? And if that doesn't make us a real family, then who needs to be a real family? We can be the family that we are and be happy.' “

” ‘There aren’t any rules about families,’ King Sunshine told his son. ‘Families love each other, that’s all that matters.’ “

”But Gus couldn’t forget what Precious had said. ‘She said that you weren’t my real father.’ “

” ‘For a little girl, she sure talks a lot of—‘ began King Charming but King Sunshine stopped him.”

” ‘Gus, I am your real father. I may not be your birth father, but I love you just the same. You’re my little boy and nothing will ever change that.’ “

”Gus’ mom said, ‘Remember Tommy’s family? His birth father and mother got divorced and his mother remarried so now Tommy has two fathers too.’ “

” ‘And,’ said his other mom, ‘Grace’s mother died and she only has a father and no mother. But they’re still a family.’ “

” ‘Families come in all shapes and sizes,’ Leo said. ‘You’re not only my best friend, you’re part of my family too.’ “

”And Gus laughed, seeing himself at dinner with the rest of Leo’s feline relatives. Then he looked around at all of the people who had searched for him and who loved him and he realized that Princess Precious was a nitwit just like Leo said. He did have a real family, a special family. In fact, he had the best family in the whole world.” Justin held up a final picture of Gus and his family. “The End.”

The children, led by Adrianne, clapped at the end of the story and asked if they could see the pictures so Justin passed them around and the kids all marveled at the drawings and how much Prince Gus and his daddies looked like Gus and his daddies.

One little boy with the most beautiful cocoa colored skin raised his hand and said, “My mommy is Japanese and my daddy is Afr’can Amer’can.” He turned and waved at his mother who smiled and waved back.

Another child said, “I live with Nana and Grandpa. Hi, Nana!” she called out to the amusement of the adults in the room.

”That’s right, children,” said Adrianne, “families do come in all shapes and sizes. And they’re all special and real. Now, what do we say to Mr. Taylor-Kinney?”

”Thank you!” the kids yelled and Justin blushed.

”You’re welcome.”

”And,” Adrianne added, “how would you like it if Mr. Taylor-Kinney came back and read another story about Prince Gus and Leo?”

”Yeah!” they screamed.

Adrianne raised a brow at Justin and he laughed. She reminded him of Brian.

”I’d love to,” he said.

And the kids cheered and went back to passing around the pictures.

A few of the parents who had come for the reading went up to the front and congratulated Justin on his story and expressed their appreciation of the artwork. One woman asked if he planned on publishing his stories and Justin caught Brian’s eye at the back of the room. “Actually, I am.” 

 

Having finally dragged his two men away from the library and their adoring fans, Brian put aside his dietary concerns and agreed to have a celebratory meal at the House of the Rat. While Gus busied himself with trying to win a cheap, polyester toy out of a cage, Brian and Justin sat at their table and talked.

”So, a writer, huh?”

Justin smiled shyly. “One unpublished story does not make me a writer.”

”You’ll be a hit. Before you know it, you’ll be going on book tours and talk shows.”

Laughing, Justin said, “I don’t think Letterman and I will be doing lunch any time soon.”

”You never know.” Brian studied the surface of the water in his glass. “You did good.”

”I know.” But it meant a lot to hear Brian say so because he never gave out false praise, even if it meant hurting your feelings. He was honest that way.

They smiled at each other, then Brian grimaced. “Too bad Oprah quit the biz. We’re ripe for that show.”

”Rosie. She would have been all over it. Fairy tales for gay families.”

”Can you believe she was ever in the closet? Please, the woman was the poster child for carpet munchers.”

”Would you have gone on the show with me?”

”It would have taken a pretty big reward.”

”Eight and a half big enough for you?” asked Justin with a smirk.

”More than enough. In fact,” said Brian, “I think I might need to be rewarded tonight.”

”For what?”

”For being a good spouse.”

Justin’s sunshine smile lit up the room. “You’re not a good spouse,” he said, “you’re the best.”

”Least that’s what the bathroom stalls in Babylon say.”

”Asshole.”

Gus returned to the table to find his parents holding hands and laughing and he thought to himself that he was luckiest little boy in the whole world to have two daddies like his.

Even if they were silly.


	4. Be My Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin celebrate Valentine's Day right before their fourth anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of story, just a lot of fooling around.

He walks into the room and somehow everyone notices him; even the ones who are not conscious of doing so take note of his presence. He draws their attention just by crossing from the door to our table. But he only has eyes for me. It's always been that way from the moment we met. Even when he was supposedly ignoring me and scoping out potential tricks I knew he was only searching for substitutes for me. I was never far from his thoughts. Now I'm constantly in them.

"Hey, Baby," he drawls as he takes his seat and reaches for my hand, for my ring hand. Not unexpectedly he kisses my fingers despite spectators.

"Hey." Smiling softly, I look away from his face, from his incredible eyes that are busy promising me the moon and stars. As if I didn't already have everything I've ever wanted.

Satisfied that he's made me blush at least once tonight, he picks up his menu and peruses it with a tiny smile that tells me he's pleased. I'd do almost anything to see that smile, the one that barely changes the shape of his mouth. His mouth… I should probably concentrate on the menu in front of me but now that I've thought of his mouth I find that his lips are all I can focus on at the moment. Perfect, raspberry lips that swell when he's aroused, when we've been kissing for so long that we forget where we are or that a world exists outside of our immediate surroundings. Just thinking about kissing him makes me tingle.

"Penny for your thoughts," he says, cocking his head to the side. A lock of hair falls over his eyelid, hair entangling in his lashes and I reach over, any excuse to touch him, and brush it aside. More than once he's complained about the length of his bangs but I like them a little longer, gives his face a softer look. Compliments his gorgeous eyes and his beautiful lips. He says it makes him look a little too femme. Not hardly. "So," he asks again, "what were you thinking about?"

"You," I reply and he laughs. "Predictable, huh?"

"Yep," and gives me a much broader smile than before and it's just as affective.

Reaching for his ring hand, I take it and stroke his fingers with my own. "I love you."

"Better. Can't do without you."

"Don't ever have to," I promise then begrudgingly release his hand as the waiter finally shows up.

"Sorry, it's a little crowded in here tonight. Valentine's Day and all."

"Cosmopolitan," Brian says as if the guy hadn't apologized and picks up his menu again. There's no excuse for bad service in Brian's book.

"I've never seen it so busy," I say to soothe the sting of Brian's treatment and the waiter nods gratefully. "Chocolate martini. Thanks."

"I'll be right back with your drinks." The man scurries off and I shake my head. No matter how much he's changed, he'll always remain the same in some ways.

"Wonder what the specials are," he says without looking up.

"Find out soon enough."

"Better. Or his tip is gonna be smaller than his cock."

"How do you know how small it is?" I ask, readying myself for a patented Brian Kinney response.

"Please. I'm accurate to within one sixteenth of an inch. Sight unseen."

And that's how it's going to stay. "Too bad you won't ever know if you're right or not," I tease, not that he's even wanted to trick for years now. Or, correction, maybe he's wanted to but he hasn't. Neither of us has strayed since his incident with Kenneth. Which wasn't, technically, straying. But I don't want to think about that tonight.

He's been thinking about what I said and he finally replies, "I couldn't care less how big or small his cock is. I've got all I need," and he leaves me wondering if he's talking about his or mine.

The waiter returns with our drinks and recites the evening's specials. I decide to try the Rainbow trout as does Brian which shocks me. Usually he's a little more red-blooded in his dining choices, preferring meat to almost everything else. Guess he's keeping it light in light of the evening's activities still to come. So to speak.

Brian raises his glass as do I. "To us."

"To us." We sip our drinks. Perfect. I can tell by the way he closes his eyes and savors the alcohol. "Hard day at work?" I had a chance to change after putting in eight hours or so in my studio but he came to the restaurant straight from the office still wearing the pin-striped suit he'd put on this morning.

Shakes his head. "Just long." Takes another sip. "We could have gone to the inn," he says. After all, midnight marks our fourth anniversary.

I had wanted to stay home and he hadn't argued against it. "Did you want to go?" I ask, a little too late now and berate myself silently for never having asked him before.

Before Brian can answer, the waiter slips a basket of dinner rolls on the table and weaves in between the other tables, responding to a customer's glance.

Brian shrugs, picking up the thread of our conversation once more just as easily as he picks up one of the rolls. "Not really." Which means he'd thought about it.

"You should have said something." "

Our bed's just as good as theirs," he replies.

I lean forward so that no one else can hear and say, "Don't talk about our bed. You'll make me horny."

"You're always horny. I don't think even I was as horny as you are at twenty-four."

"You didn't have a sexy old man keeping your bed warm the way I do."

"Who's old?"

He's going to be thirty-six this April. "Not you."

We make small talk until our entrees arrive, making plans for our vacation this summer. We're going to Pranburi, Thailand and staying in this luxury hotel called the Aleenta. Brian booked us a private bungalow with an ocean view and our own plunge pool right off the bedroom. I've looked through the brochure and web site a thousand times since we decided to go with that particular resort. The bungalow we'll be staying in actually reminds me of the loft: clean lines, minimalist look. Sometimes I miss it, the loft.   
Brian smiles and says, "I can't wait to go skinny dipping in our very own private pool."

"We can do that now," I point out.

"But the Pitts isn't Thailand."

"Not by a long fuckin' shot," I agree.

"Still, our pool is pretty amazing…"

"God, I wish it was warm enough to go swimming." We've had some pretty amazing evenings in the pool, some of which were witnessed by our neighbors. Aurally if not visually. I can't help it, he makes me crazy when we make love. He finds my spot and hits it and I start shouting. It's all his fault.   
And I don't ever want him to stop.

"You're thinking about fucking," he teases.

"You were the one who brought up skinny dipping."

"Couldn't help it. I kept thinking about your ass."

"Brian!" I hiss. "Stop it." My cock is stirring and beginning to press against my trousers.

"All plump… and wet… and spread open waiting for me to—"

I kick him under the table and he yelps and rubs his shin.

"Just for that," he threatens, "no cock for you tonight."

"And who was dreaming about my perfect ass?"

"I didn't say it was perfect."

"But it is."

His lids drop lazily over his eyes. He can't help but admit that it's so. "So it's perfect. You want an award?"

"Yeah. Your cock." And I lick my lips the way I always do after I've finished milking him to lap up any stray drops.

"Stop it," he whispers and I know his dick is pressing against his trousers too. "You're supposed to be a respectable, married man."

"I am. And I'm thinking about sucking off my very hung and very respectable husband."

He disputes my claim. Prefers instead, "Disreputable."

"Infamous."

"Notorious." Reaches for his napkin in his lap to cover touching his erection. "I’m hard as fucking stone," he reports.

I can feel him beneath me the way I've felt him a thousand times before, rooting around for my hole, finding it, and pushing his way in. I fidget in my seat. Whisper, "We've got to get out of here."

He attracts the waiter's attention. "Check."

Brian pays for dinner, leaves a sizeable tip at my insistence, then we race to our individual cars and take off like we're leaving the starting line at the Indy 500. We make it to the house in record time. I slam the door of the Cherokee and impatiently hit the lock on my keychain. I have the door by the kitchen open by the time he grabs me by the waist and rubs up against me. I can feel his cock and it's hungry. So am I.

Once inside the house, I push him back against the steps and he sits down hard, pulling me down with him. And we kiss, his tongue meeting mine inside his mouth, inside mine. He chews on my lips and I on his until they're swollen and slightly tender. But we don't stop kissing.

I unbutton and unzip his trousers, then break our kiss to pull his slacks down over his hips. I reach for his briefs and down they go as well. I manage to get one slender leg free and it's enough. Kneeling on the step below him, I bend my head and lick the head of his cock. Hear him sigh. I lick around the rim and up and down the slit until he starts to drip. I love the taste of his precum. But I want all of his cock now. Taking him by the balls, I go down on him, letting his thickening shaft slide over my tongue as I suck him. He continues to harden as I blow him and I know that even though he can keep himself from coming if he chooses to, he won't. He'll let go and come in my mouth cause he knows it's what I want.

Like a newborn, I suckle at his cock and I feel his balls throb in my palm. I knead them, stroke them from back to front and he moans and thrusts upwards. Cum strikes the back of my throat and I raise up a little, just enough to let his cock head rest on my tongue so that I can taste him. I suck his dick as he comes and when he's through, I lick the head and shaft clean, and then I lick my lips clean, and then I rise up and kiss him hard, still holding on to his balls.

Once he recovers from his orgasm, he stands and finishes undressing, leaving his suit to lie on the steps until later. His blatant disregard of his designer menswear is a huge turn-on. Watching his small, tight buttocks rise and fall as he walks in front of me, I reach out and cup a cheek. He looks over his shoulder and smiles and stops and leans against the wall. Needing no other invitation, I drop my trousers and release my erection which I rub up and down the valley between his buttocks.

My cock slips on the sweat covering his skin and slides down between his legs, beneath his balls. Bringing his legs closer together, he traps me there like Br'er Rabbit in the briar patch and I thrust between his thighs until I feel my balls spasm and my slit opens and I come, splattering his balls and cock and belly and even the wall in front of him. I pull free of his thighs, the tip of my dick still dribbling and he turns and takes me in hand, rubbing his fingers over the head of my cock until they are wet too. Then he sticks them in his mouth and tastes my cum.

He finishes undressing me and leaves my clothes in the hallway. Follows me to our suite. I know his eyes are on my ass. I can feel him staring at me: it feels like a finger sliding between my cheeks and into my hole. My cock twitches and I quicken my pace.

Once in our room, he grabs me and pushes me face-forward onto the bed. My legs hang over the edge. I'm just where he wants me. He goes onto his knees between my feet and parts my cheeks. I feel his breath on my skin, can hear him breathing. It's making me crazy, this near-silent worship. I know he's looking at my hole, tongue peeking from between his lips. I know he's aching for me, wanting to thrust his tongue up my ass, wanting to shove his cock up my ass. In the midst of my thoughts, he strikes. His tongue washes over my hole and I feel the edges constrict, then relax. God, I love it when he rims me. He'll have me screaming in no time if he keeps this up. And he will. He loves my ass, loves eating out my ass, and he won't stop until he's had his fill. If that's possible. I don’t think it is. Sometimes I think he fucks me just to get his tongue up my hole. Except that he loves the way my ass feels around his cock.

Right now he's fucking me with his tongue. In and out it moves until I'm clutching the comforter in my fists and fighting against the urge to scream. But I know it's a losing battle. He curls the tip of his tongue inside my ass and I shout. He plays in the folds, making my head spin and I grip the floor with my toes. If he isn't careful, I'm going to come again. My dick is being rubbed raw but I don't care.

He flips me over and pushes my legs up, devours my ass, my balls, my cock. My leg muscles tense as he runs his tongue from my hole to my balls and up to the tip of my cock which I press conveniently down towards his head. The tip of his tongue enters my cock hole and fucks it as well and I jerk, so close now…

Brian releases me, lets my feet touch the floor again. He stands, cock straining for his belly. He pushes down on it and lets it spring free. Again. Precum flings across my thighs and stomach. He's wasting it. I slide to the floor and wrap my lips around his dick and suck him as if I hadn't just sucked him off minutes ago. But he wants more than this and soon eases me away from his meat. "Lie down on your belly," he orders and I obey. His voice makes my stomach flutter. He joins me on the bed and reaches for the lube that he keeps on his nightstand, thoughtful, considerate Boy Scout that he is. I look around and see him slather it on his cock. I watch his slit gape open and drool. Mmmm, it's gonna feel so good going in…

"Oh," I gasp as the head nuzzles my hole. The lube is a little cool but it'll warm up in no time. A few strokes is all it takes to go from nippy to nuclear. He doesn't bother fingering my ass to open me up, his cock will do that just fine. And it does. When he pushes in me, I hold my breath, letting it go only as he comes to rest against my prostate. I steal a breath before he bumps into it sending fireworks off inside my head. This is as close to heaven as we ever get. I'm convinced of it.

At first he's gentle. He likes to start out slow and build up speed, power, tension. By the time he's done I'll be screaming his name, biting the pillow, humping the bed. Or he'll turn me over and fuck me face to face, pulling on my cock until I explode, tightening around his dick, bringing him off with me. Or he'll lie on his back and I'll climb on top and ride him until I'm bobbing senselessly on his dick. Once he was fucking me and I started sliding off the bed. I ended up halfway on the floor, supporting myself with my hands while he still hammered me. We've fucked in chairs, fucked on stairs, fucked in the shower, the hallway, the closet, the pool, his Jeep, the back of the Cherokee, out back of Deb's house. He's used dildos on me, plugs, anal beads, and even the handle of a whip but nothing ever feels as good as his cock, buried deep inside of me, his pubes brushing against my ass.

He slides out of me and uses his cock to slap my buttocks, leaving wet traces on my skin. I beg him to put it back in me. "Fuck me," I say. "Fuck me." I feel his fingers push inside me. He fucks me with two for a while, then removes them. Thrusts his cock back inside and increases the pace. I reach back and slap his ass, urging him on although I want it to last forever. After a few minutes, he withdraws again and sits back against the headboard. I look over and his dick is an angry shade of red, rearing its head proudly.

I crawl over to him and straddle him, facing away from him. I fumble behind me and grab his cock, position my ass over it, and press down. He splits me open and I take him, I take him all the way and tighten my hole around the base of his cock. He runs his hands over my shoulders, my back, clasps my waist between his hands and holds on as I rise and fall upon his dick like waves upon an ocean. "Ohhh," I moan and I work my ass on his cock, squeezing as I come to the end of a motion. My eyes cross and I keep riding him, unseeing, feeling nothing but his cock up my ass and his hands on my waist. His hands slide around to the front of me and cup my balls, encircle my cock. I grind my hips downwards and keep him in me as I rotate my ass.

"Justin!" The word erupts from his lips and I know I've got him. I've got him right where I want him.

I bounce on him a few times, then let him slip from me. I lie down on my stomach, between his legs, with my ass in the air. I know what he sees. My hole is stretched open, the edges swollen. They attempt to draw together but still an opening remains. I hear him growl and then the bed moves and he's in me again, fucking my ass with abandon. My dick bounces against my belly as he rides me hard. Precum drips from the tip and I'm afraid to touch myself, afraid I'll come before I want to. I want more, more of his dick, more of this in and out. I'll be sore in the morning but right now I don’t care. I want him to fuck me raw, to bust me wide open so that I'll know a man's been inside me, that he owns my ass.

He leans over me and grabs hold of the foot board and reams my hole. He's jabbing me so hard, my ass seems to sigh in relief each time he withdraws even a little. But I want more and so does my hole no matter how much it smarts.

"Yes! Yes!" I cry. "Do it! Fuck me! Fuck my ass. Fuck my ass!" I scream and he does. Sweaty, slick with precum and lube, his dick nevertheless fills me and I feel every inch of him lengthwise and widthwise. I can only moan, "My ass. My ass." Words dissolve into incoherent sounds. I'm jerking my hips backwards to meet his thrusts, trying to force my ass to swallow up his entire cock. One time he wrapped his balls up in this modified cock ring and fucked me with his cock and balls. I wish I'd thought of it this time because I want all of him in me. I want him to stretch my hole and then fill it to overflowing. I want to be marked with his cum. I want it to drip out of my ass and streak my thighs. I want to lie on the bed, spent, and feel his jizz drying on my skin. I want my hole to spasm even after he's pulled out.

He shifts and I feel his hot breath on my shoulder. His tongue slithers out and licks my neck even as his cock licks the inner recesses of my hole. I throw my head back and whimper because he's fucking me so hard now, so hard. So… I feel his teeth nip my shoulder and then he closes his mouth about the spot and sucks hard as he ravishes me. His cock swells impossibly and my prostate sings. My balls spasm and I come on the bed, spunk surging from the tip of my dick to stain the comforter. As I do, my hole constricts and he gasps and drops his load. He continues to thrust against me as he comes, two, three times hard, then less so, and finally he stills. His cock stays inside me while he waits for his breathing to return to normal. I can feel him breathing against my back, stomach still hard from the force of his orgasm. After a moment, he withdraws and rolls over onto his back, cock moist and red and lazing between his thighs. I join him, curling against his side.

I feel his cum trickling from my ass.

He moves, takes something from the nightstand and hands it to me. It's one of those candies with messages on it. "Be my valentine?" he asks as does the candy.

I kiss his chest, just a tiny peck above his heart. "Always." I smile against his skin and turn the candy in my fingers. I would have thought he'd get some of those raunchy ones that say "Fuck Me," or something like that but he hasn't. He's opted for an old fashioned approach. One year I bought a chocolate fountain pen and wrote all over his body before licking the chocolate ink off. I remember when he wouldn't even acknowledge that a holiday such as Valentine's Day existed. Or if he did, it was only to say that it was a completely manufactured holiday created by the greeting card, floral, and confectionery industry to perk up a slow sales month. Now he takes me out for romantic dinners and we come home and make love and I just know that there's a bubble bath in our future with a bottle of chilled champagne and a window sill full of votives. It's late but not that late and, besides, we've taken the next few days off to celebrate our anniversary. Which officially begins in a couple of hours.

Four years.

He stirs and begins stroking my shoulders and back. "What are you thinking about?"

"We've been married four years."

"Mmm. Doesn't feel that long."

"Just wait until our twenty-fifth anniversary."

"Shit!" He laughs. "I'll be fuckin'—I don't want to think about it."

"You'll be the hottest fi—"

Brian covers my mouth. "Don't say it."

I raise up and look him in the eyes so that he knows I'm serious. "I'll never stop wanting you."

He smiles. "You mean it?"

I kiss him and whisper against his lips, "Forever and ever."

Suddenly shy, he closes his eyes for a moment then opens them and I'm struck again by how beautiful they are, how beautiful he is. Even though you'd think I'd be used to it, it catches me by surprise sometimes. He'll be taking something out of the oven and his hair will fall just right in his face and I'll just stare at him until he turns and smiles or we both laugh cause he knows I've been caught again. I have a couple hundred sketches of him around the house. I plan on doing thousands more.

Having rested for a while we go about filling the tub and getting the champagne and lighting the candles. It's become an anniversary ritual in remembrance of our first night as a married couple. I'll never forget making love in the tub after having made love in bed. Brian held me in his arms, the warm water caressing my skin, and stroked me until I came.

"Mmm…" I say, thinking about it and he comes up behind me and cups my cheek. His long fingers curve around my flesh and I imagine them sliding between my buttocks and teasing my hole.

As if he knows what I'm thinking, he slaps my ass and says, "Later." He pours the champagne and sets the glasses in the window sill, then gets in the tub and holds out his hand. I take it and settle down in front of him, leaning back against his chest, his legs on either side of me, sheltering me. I always feel safe when I'm with him. Maybe because he saved my life, I don't know. Or maybe just because he's the strongest person I know. Not that he never feels fear because I've seen him afraid. It's because, no matter what, he manages to find the strength to go on. He says I give him that strength. If so, I hope I never fail him.

In between sips of champagne, he uses the sponge to wash me, twisting it dry over my head, water cascading over me. Then he squeezes a generous amount of shampoo in his hands and works it into my hair. I love it when he washes my hair. It makes me feel like a child again and, at the same time, it's incredibly erotic. Of course, he generally moves from my hair to my chest, to my groin, rubbing his hands in circles over my nipples, my belly. He shampoos the hair at my crotch, running his fingers through it until I'm almost crazy. By then my cock's usually poking up past the surface of the water.

Then he'll catch one leg in the crook of his arm and open me up so that he can soap my balls, my ass. Once, he sat a mirror up at the foot of the tub so that we could watch ourselves. We both got turned on by the way my ass looked, framed by the water and bubbles. Drawing me up onto his chest, he slid a hand between us and his finger felt around for my hole, hidden amongst the suds. Finding it, he slipped it inside me and then trapped my cock with his free hand. Fist sliding up and down my shaft, he ordered me to watch and I did, muscles tensing as he jacked me off. He kept saying, "Come on, little boy. Come on, come for Daddy, come for Daddy," and I moaned, half out of my mind. I could feel his fingers pushing deeper inside me; see my cock getting harder, the slit spreading, the opening widening, and then I came, jizz splattering the water, water splattering the floor as I thrashed about. Afterwards, he gently cleaned my cock and kissed my neck. "That's my little boy."

I felt his cock beneath me and whispered, "Fuck me, Daddy." He entered me, thrusting up into my ass as we held on to the edge of the tub. Whatever water had remained in the tub now sloshed over the side. I gripped the tub and shifted positions so that I was half-crouched over his dick, fucking myself on it. The sight of myself riding his erection, my own cock rising again, was better than any drug, any aphrodisiac. We shifted again and I got on my knees and leaned over the foot of the tub while he fucked me from behind. My dick kept rubbing up against the smooth porcelain and I knew I would come soon. He kept moving until he hit the spot he was aiming for and I screamed. "Oh, Daddy. Oh, Daddy," I mumbled. "Yes. Yes. Yes." I could hardly breathe.

Tonight, after he washes my hair, he wraps his hand around my dick and strokes it until I'm thrashing around, crying out his name, and coming. That's my old man. He knows how to take care of his little boy.

Later between the sheets, once we've fucked in the tub and, for good measure, on the rug by the bed since we couldn't make it to the bed in time, I lie in his arms, head pillowed on his chest, and almost purr. I feel so good. He makes me feel this way. He kisses the top of my head and draws the covers over us and we lie like that as sleep creeps up on us. I hear him whisper, "Happy Anniversary, Baby," and I kiss his neck.

"Happy Anniversary." Four down, only a lifetime more to go.


	5. Bringing Home Beck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gus brings Beck home for a visit with the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone once asked for this story but I can't remember who.

So I'm a little nervous about bringing Beck home to meet the folks. I mean, the Moms are bad enough but subjecting him to the sibs and the Dads, well, let's just say I'm afraid he'll run the first chance he gets. But, in true Brian Kinney fashion, I haven't let on that anything's wrong. And there isn't anything wrong. Not exactly. Just this feeling in the pit of my stomach that this is going to go down in the Kinney Family Annals as a clusterfuck of the first magnitude. It won't be the first as my Dad and Pop have a lot of first magnitude clusterfuck entries of their own already. That's the best part about having Pop and Dad as my fathers: there's nothing I can do that they haven't done. Worse. It's also the worst part about having Pop and Dad as my fathers, cause there's nothing I can do that they haven't done. Better. Outside of the trade, no one knows my Pop's name but everyone's seen his commercials, everyone jumps to buy whatever he's selling. And Dad's books routinely top the bestsellers' lists even though he writes for children. Most of my college friends grew up reading his Prince Gus and Leo stories and when they found out he was one of my fathers and that he had written those books about and for me, they went all goofy for a while.

I love my dads. It's just that sometimes, they're a little hard to take. Mostly because you never know how they're going to react to something. You think you've got them figured out and they manage to surprise you most of the time. Especially Pop. Justin deserves a special PhD just for having lived with and loved him for all of these years. Pop is a handful on the best of days and when he's having one of his "Brian Kinney" days, watch out. You'd be better off crawling under a rock and staying there until his sanity returns. But Justin never does. I've watched some spectacular battle royals between the two of them. That's probably the reason they've lasted so long, why they'll end up in a couple of rocking chairs together because Justin is the only person who knows when and how hard to push, because he doesn't take my dad's shit not for an instant. He may let Brian rage, knowing it's better for him to let it out than to keep it bottled up inside, but he never lets Pop abuse or disrespect him. When Pop crosses the line, Justin very calmly and very firmly yanks on his chain to get his attention and when he has it, he makes sure Brian understands just what he's done and why he's never going to do it again. People think Justin's the weaker one just because he looks angelic and is soft-spoken. Truth is, they're both like iron only Brian buffs his so that all the world can see it whereas Justin slips velvet over his.

All of this runs through my mind as I drive from Connecticut to Pennsylvania. I'm sure Beck is bored stiff from watching me think but he's good about giving me my space. A lot like Justin does for Brian. I know I'm a lot like Pop in more ways than just looks. Sometimes I brood and sulk and can't get my head around what's pissing me off the same way he does and it drives me crazy, same as it does him. The only difference is that you don't have to drag it out of me, I'm willing to talk about my problems, eager to get rid of them. Pop, on the other hand, revels in misery. He's the world's biggest Drama Queen. Worse, he's an Irish Drama Queen. Plop him down in the moors and you've got a Heathcliff for our age. A Heathcliff with more than a dash of Cathy thrown into the mix.

Startling me, Beck reaches over and squeezes my thigh. "You shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure it'll be fine."

That comment can be forgiven because he doesn't know Brian and Justin. He knows of them, knows their reputation, but nothing can really prepare you for the Brian and Justin Experience except first-hand knowledge. "Once," I tell him, "they stood out in the snow yelling at each other for half an hour. No coats, Brian barefoot, yelling at the top of their lungs about something so incredibly stupid that I can't even remember what it was. The neighbors had to have heard them and then, just like that, it was over. They went back into the house and hopped in the sauna to thaw their balls out and the next thing you know, they're in their bedroom fuckin' like rabbits. Did I mention it was Christmas Eve and they had a house full of guests?"

"So they're high maintenance."

I laugh. "That doesn't begin to cover what they are. They're both incredibly vain and arrogant in their own unique ways and, in some ways, they deserve to be because they're both amazingly talented, and beautiful… and two of the best people I know. They would give you their last breath and never regret it."

"So why are you worried?"

"Weren't you listening? They're crazy!" I shake my head. "Nuts. Absolutely, fuckin' insane. And they're my parents."

Beck smiles. "Two of your parents. What about your moms? They'll keep them straight, won't they?" Added, "Figuratively."

"My moms? Jesus, if there's any two worse than Brian and Justin it's Mel and Lindsay. They lull you into thinking they're harmless because they're women and then they go in for the kill. Do not let my Mom fool you. She looks like the lady of the manor but she'll grab you by the balls faster than you can blink. And Mama, she's entirely reasonable—just don't piss her off. Then she's like the Jewish Terminator, never gives up."

For the first time, Beck looks a little nervous. "So why are we doing this again?"

"Because I want them to meet you and to fall in love with you, just like I did."

"I don’t have to fuck them, do I?"

"You may want to. Least Brian and Justin."

He had seen their pictures in my room. "They are pretty hot. For old guys."

"Okay," I tell him, "if the word old comes out of your mouth in conjunction with them while we're visiting, you are so fucked. And on your own." Beck mimes zipping his mouth. "I hope that's not permanent. I'm looking forward to getting blown in my old room."

"Kinky," he says and winks. God, I love him. We met a few months ago, halfway through the fall semester and we've become inseparable. How I made it through Christmas break without him, I'll never know. Except that I was home and busy running interference between Brian and Justin who had been in the middle of one of their more insane and spectacular wars.

They love each other so much, it hurts them to be apart, physically pains them and yet, if they didn't have time apart from one another every now and again, they'd probably kill each other accidentally. Pop had been out of town for a week in Europe at some kind of advertising convention and Dad had been home slaving away on his new book and they'd both been half crazy by the time they'd reunited and something snapped, I mean, they were at each other from the moment Pop returned to the night they made up after a backyard brawl that must have had the neighbors talking for days. And for what? All because they'd missed one another so much they could hardly see straight by the time Pop got back. And, then, instead of fucking until they passed out, they each managed to hit every nerve the other had until they weren't even saying, "Pass the salt." Crazy. But after they made up, they couldn't keep their hands off one another, fucking every other minute of the day. I finally decided to spend some time at my Moms' place just to get away from the sound of them groaning. Those are my dads.

And this is my boyfriend. Beck. The first thing I noticed about him were his hands. He has these really strong hands. I was sitting at my drafting board, working on the plans for a domestic dwelling, i.e. a house, when I noticed the veins standing out on the backs of his hands. I guess they reminded me of Brian's hands. Justin's too. Anyway, I looked up from the hands to the arms and the shoulders and finally the face. Fair skin with blue eyes and rich red hair. Not exactly my type, if I could be said to have a type; after all, I'd only been with two other guys. I was a slow mover, nothing like Pop. I was normally drawn to darker guys, tall guys with lightly tanned skin and dark hair. I tried not to think about how they reminded me of Pop. Nobody wants to think about their dad when they're fucking some guy. But I couldn't help it. Especially since all of my friends would comment on how hot Brian was, how they'd love to do him even if he was my dad and way older than all of us. They thought Justin was beautiful and they all wanted to be around him but Brian, Brian they just wanted to fuck. It was kind of disturbing listening to your friends talk about blowing your father. I got over it. After all, they weren't going to change. And neither was he. 

 

Closing the trunk, Beck gives me a quick peck on the cheek before we carry our bags to the kitchen door and go inside. I know they're home, both of their cars are in the yard. As I push open the door, I hear a sound, like a gasp, and I think, no fuckin' way, I told them I'd be home around one, they cannot be in the kitchen fucking. I pause in the doorway and hear Pop say, "Fuck," and Dad ask, "What?"

Answering for Brian, I call out, "I'm here."

Hear Dad's, "Shit. I told you."

"You didn't say no."

"Shut up and get dressed." Then to me, "Give us a couple of minutes, okay?"

"Give him the ten cent tour," Pop tells me.

Shaking my head, I gesture upstairs to Beck. "Come on. I'll show you around and we can put our stuff away." Face burning, I lead the way to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, Beck starts laughing. "What's so funny?" I ask.

"God, they're exactly like you said."

"I know," I sigh. "I was hoping they'd have grown up a little bit since Christmas."

"Please, if I didn't exist, I would think my parents had never had sex."

"Just once, I'd like to know what it feels like not to have heard them fucking." As we walk through the guest room which doubled as Indy's room when she stayed with them, I tell him, "I'm warning you, even with their door closed and the door to my room closed, you may still hear them. Justin's a screamer."

He nuzzles my neck. "I'm hoping to do a little screaming of my own," he says and I chuckle as he intended. Passing through the bathroom, he nods appreciatively at the Robert Graves bathtub. "Hmm, I can't wait to take a bath in that."

"It's a date."

"You know," he says, "this place is fabulous but it's not what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, your parents are loaded, they could afford something way bigger."

"Yeah, but they got married in this house, they raised us in this house, and they love it. They've got a place in Tuscany that they bought back when Justin's first book became a hit. It's an old villa outside of Siena. They spent the summers there restoring it. We all flew over one year for Christmas, it was fuckin' amazing. And there's the apartment in New York."

"You never said anything about that."

"Because we're not allowed to set foot in it without them. It's their special place."

We put away our stuff and Beck teases me about the sports posters on the wall. I tell him that they belong to Jake, my little brother.

"Justin's kid."

"Yeah. But we're all family, doesn't matter who the birth parents are."

"Must be nice," he says, a wistful look in his eyes. He's an only child and he's said that he would have had more fun growing up if he'd had brothers and sisters. I would agree. Sometimes it was more fun and sometimes it was definitely a pain in the ass. Less so with Jake cause I was nine when he was born and by then I was aching for a little brother.

"Jake is cool. He'll be over this weekend for sure. He spends most of them with Brian and Justin. Daphne says he needs positive male role models."

"So why does she send him over here?"

"That's exactly what I keep asking myself," Brian says from the doorway and we both jump. He has a grin on his face like the cat who'd eaten the canary and I think to myself that they must have had time enough to blow one another in the bathroom while I was showing Beck the place. He casts a lazy eye over the both of us, then drawls, "No kiss for your old man?"

We hug and buss each other on the cheek and I whisper, "I love you, Pop," as we part.

His eyes glisten and he brushes my bangs back from my forehead. "You need a haircut. You look like a sheepdog."

Which isn't true as my hair's thin like his but it is getting long. Still, I tell him, "Beck likes to grab it while we're fucking," and Brian raises a brow, pleased. He half turns as Justin rushes into the room and hugs me hard. Kisses me and brushes my hair back as well.

"Jesus, you look more and more like that asshole every day."

"Hey, the asshole's standing right next to you." When Beck giggles a little, Brian's raptor gaze zeroes in on him. "So," he says, "introduce us."

"Pop, Dad, this is Beck McGill; Beck, my parents: Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor-Kinney."

With their attention focused directly on him, Beck finally begins to understand his position. Still, he manages to wet his throat and to hold out his hand as he crosses to us. "How do you do?"

Brian takes his hand and I can see he's either about to say or do something mischievous when Justin gives him the eye and he clamps down on the impulse. I resolve to give Justin an extra hug before I go. "Nice to meet you."

When Brian releases his hand, Justin takes Beck by the arm and says, "Has Gus shown you around the house?"

"We got this far."

"I'll give you the grand tour," he tells him and whisks him away. Which means Brian wants to talk to me about something.

I sit on one of the full-sized beds they put in here after I outgrew my race car bed. Nana completely redecorated after I turned eight even though Jake was on his way. I guess I was the lucky one, having been born first, although Jake has a fabulous room all his own at Daphne's place. "So," I say, "what do you want to talk to me about?"

Giving me a sly look, he walks around the room touching various objects as if he were in a treasure room. I suppose, in away they are. Mementos of my life. Of his and Justin's in this house.

"Pop?" I start to feel frightened. "You're not sick or anything, are you?"

He smiles. "Healthy as a horse. It's all that grain Justin feeds me. Like there's something wrong with red meat."

"So what is it?"

"You serious about this kid?"

His question takes me off-guard. Pop is not the relationship guru of the family. That's generally Justin's job. "Kinda."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I like him."

"You love him?"

"Maybe."

"That means yes."

"Okay, yeah, I love him."

He nods. Perches on the edge of a low bookcase. "Just be careful, Sonny Boy."

"About what?"

"That you're not in over your head."

I'm beginning to feel a little tense. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're young, that you don't know all there is to being in a relationship."

"And what?" I ask, angry now. "You do?"

"Gus—"

"Dad was seventeen when he met you. Seventeen!"

"And he didn't know a fuckin' thing either."

"Not all of us can be perfect like you."

"I'm not perfect and this isn't about me."

"It's always about you!" I get up, storm around the room. "You can't let me be happy, let me enjoy my life. You have to act like I'm making the biggest mistake of my life by being in love, being happy. I hate when you do this. I hate how you have to twist everything until you don't even recognize it anymore. I won't let you do that to me. I won't!"

"Gus, listen to me—"

"Fuck you!"

He reaches for my arm just as I'm about to leave the room. "Gus—"

"I hate you." The words just fly out of my mouth before I can grab them. I watch his face shift. He's never looked so old before. His fingers release me and he looks away. Then, without saying anything else, he leaves my room. I hear him shuffle to the suite he shares with Justin and shut the door behind him. Fuck. Sitting on my bed, I shiver. I can't believe I just said that to him. I’m fuckin' nineteen, I can't even use hormones as an excuse. I don't know what gets into me sometimes. It's like everyone in the world has one person who can always push their buttons and, out of all my parents, Brian's the one who pushes mine the most. Probably because I'm a lot like him. Too much like him. I stare down at my hands until I'm convinced that the secrets of the universe cannot be found in my palms. Time passes, how much I'm not sure. Then I hear someone enter the room. It has to be Justin, come to play peacemaker. "Where's Beck?"

"Downstairs watching lunch."

"Pop?"

"Holed up in his study." Justin doesn't sit, just stands glaring down at me. "You really hurt him, Gus."

"I didn't mean to."

"He loves you."

"I know."

"More than anything."

"I know!"

"So now you're angry with me."

"No." I stand and wrap my arms around him. "I'm sorry."

"He worries about you. Worries that you'll make the same mistakes he did, that you'll get hurt same as he did."

"Beck's not like Cam." I'd grown up listening to their stories, my very own sex education course.

"But you're just kids, just like he and Cam were."

"You were seventeen."

"And I got the shit kicked out of me. By your father. Every fuckin' day of the week that began with a consonant."

"And you're still together."

"Yeah. But we weren't always. We had to work so hard, Gus—"

"But it was worth it. You have a life together. I want that too."

"And if it doesn’t happen with Beck?"

"I'll be okay."

"Sure?" I nod and he kisses me even though I have to lean over and he has to reach up. I remember when I used to be smaller than him, when he held me on his lap and read to me or kissed my boo-boos. "So," he says softly, "why the fuck couldn't you have said that to your father instead of acting like a complete and utter asshole?" Velvet over iron.

I find my Pop in his study like Justin said and he's stretched out on his chaise lounge, the one he's had all of my life, reupholstered and looking just as good now as on the day he bought it. He's got a cigarette between his fingers and takes a long draw on it. The only time he smokes in the house is when he's upset and the only place he smokes is in here. With the door shut. I go into his study and close the door behind me. Stand with my hands in my pockets, not knowing what to say. Finally, I sit down at the foot of the lounge. He glances at me, then stubs out his cigarette and waits for me to say something.

"I'm sorry, Pop."

He sniffles. "Let's not turn this into a Hallmark moment."

"You're pissed with me."

Shakes his head. "I knew this day would come." Smiles bitterly. "When my old man was dying, I had this vision of the way it would be, when I was old. I could see you standing in front of me, looking just like me, and telling me you hated me. Hated me for not being good enough, a good enough father. For all the promises I didn't keep."

"Pop, you're a good father." I can't believe he thinks he isn't. "You and Dad are the best. I didn't mean what I said, I swear. I love you, Pop." I grasp his knee and he playfully wiggles his leg around.

"Little asshole."

"I'm sorry if I made you cry."

He nearly sputters. "Made me cry?" But he can't deny it, you can see the remains of the tears on his cheeks. "Only cause I couldn’t believe I'd wasted my spunk on you."

We stand and I hug him and kiss his neck. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For caring about me."

His eyes darkening with serious intent, he says, "I don’t want you to have to go through the shit that I had to go through. Cause it wasn't pretty… and I almost didn’t make it."

"I'll be okay. And if it doesn't work out between me and Beck, I'll survive."

"It'll hurt."

"Yeah, but it won't kill me." I know about the suicide attempts, he told me himself, wanting me to understand the dark moods that descend upon him sometimes.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He smiles a little. "Why the fuck did you have to be gay?"

"Cause you and Justin were having way too much fun. I figured I might as well have fun too." I add as he starts out of the bedroom suite, "And I never heard Melanie or Lindsay have an orgasm like you and Justin."

Turning with a grin, he slings his arm around my neck and we walk pressed against one another. Me and my Pop. 

 

"So is Gus a top or a bottom?" Brian asks Beck and I almost choke on my lamb chop. Beck looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an SUV and Justin merely glares at Brian. "What? Inquiring minds want to know."

"It's none of your business," Justin tells him.

"I'm just making conversation." Smiles as if he's being oh so charming. "You would think with me as his dad, he'd be a total top but he's got lesbian genes too so—"

"Oh, so you're a total top?" asks Justin innocently.

"You know what I mean."

Justin cuts his meat as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I'll remind you of that the next time you want me to plow your ass open."

It's a miracle Beck doesn't fall off his chair. Hearing the author of the Prince Gus and Leo fairy tale books discussing anal sex at the dinner table must be a surreal experience. Me, I'm used to it.

"Baby, I just meant that most of the time I'm a top." Yep, the chain has been yanked. But, apparently, not hard enough. "You have to admit that nine times out of ten, you're the one with your ass up in the air begging to be reamed." He raises his glass. "And such a nice ass too."

Okay, it's time for us to retire, whether we've finished eating or not, because I see a Texas Death Match in their future.

"Seems to me you're getting the best part of this deal. I mean, you get to fuck my sweet ass and, when you want it, you get to be fucked by my impressive cock. Whereas I have to be satisfied with your bony behind and your—"

"I wouldn’t go there," Brian warns.

Justin makes a face and finishes his meat. "So familiar," he says as he opens his mouth to accommodate a small piece of lamb. The implication is not lost on Pop. His cheeks are flushed and he seems about two seconds away from having an apoplectic fit. Dad purses his lips. "Uncle?"

"Vic."

Without pausing, Justin asks, "Are you enjoying your visit so far, Beck?"

"It's been… educational," he replies. Good boy.

After clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, we hang in the family room for a while talking about nothing and then I call around to the house and talk to my mom. Make plans to bring Beck by tomorrow if I can persuade him to expose himself to any more of my relatives. When I finish talking to her I call Jake and assure him that I've brought back the tee-shirt he'd wanted me to get at the Yale bookstore. Obligatory calls made for the evening and all of us running out of chitchat, I suggest to Beck that we take that bath we discussed earlier and then turn in for the night. We have to endure the knowing looks my fathers cast in our direction but it doesn't matter. I love that tub and it's perfect for couples. Besides, it's not like they won't be in their bathroom soaking and fooling around.

"Night, Sonny Boy," says Pop. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Guess we're safe then," Beck says lightly and Brian laughs.

"I like him. You can keep him." As we leave them and start up the stairs, I hear him say to Justin, "So what was that about my less than adequate cock?"

"You know I love your cock, Pookie."

"And my bony behind?"

I have to clap my hand over Beck's mouth to keep him from giggling out loud as we move out of earshot of my dads. Finally, he signals that he's okay and mouths, "Pookie?"

"I'll tell you about it later." Much later. Like my Pop, sometimes I have a one-track mind and, right now, I want him in that tub. Everything else can wait.

It's amazing but even doing something as mundane as filling a tub with water and bubbles takes on erotic overtones when done while Beck is undressing near me. I suppress the urge to grab him and make love to him right on the floor of the bathroom. I'm beginning to understand my parents a little better now, their constant desire to touch one another. And, as I watch Beck slip out of his clothes to reveal his pale, almost luminous skin, I realize that, instead of going out and finding myself a Brian, I've found my Justin. If only that were true. Despite my brave words to both Brian and Justin, I don't know what I'll do if I lose him. Already it feels as if he's become entwined with my bones, my breath. Which can't be good. For either of us. Too intense, too binding. For Christ's sake, we're only nineteen-years-old, what the hell do we know about forever? Even Pop and Dad can't claim to know if they'll last forever and they've got a nineteen year head start.

I feel Beck's hand on my arm. "You okay?"

Dragging myself out of my thoughts, I respond, "Yeah," with a grin. So like Brian. Needing his little boy to help save him from himself, to keep him on the right path, to keep him going period. I remember when Justin went on his first book tour, how proud Brian was of him. Then, once he was gone, Brian slowly began to lose it. Day after day, alone in that house, missing Justin so bad that he physically ached. Talking to him only made it worse, made him realize all over again what it was he missed: everything. His life. Each time Justin went on tour, it became a little easier to cope but Brian still hates it when he's gone. Justin's the same way when Brian's on a business trip. He putters around the house, redoing things a million times, wanting to jump out of his skin, feeling disconnected from everything and everyone. He says he feels like a ghost haunting some old mansion and laughs but there's this haunted look in his eyes that doesn't vanish until Brian walks through the door with his suit bag slung over his shoulder.

Do I want that for me and Beck? For me and anybody? Those two haven't had it easy. Their story ranks right up there with Romeo and Juliet, Heathcliff and Cathy, Jane and Rochester, Antony and Cleopatra; and they have the battle scars to prove it. But they have the love too; no matter how much they argue and fight, when the dust settles you'll find them in each other's arms. Maybe it's worth it. They certainly think so.

As we climb into the tub and sink beneath the bubbles and Beck slides back into my arms, I can imagine making up with him after some horrific fight. Wouldn't be so bad. Be better if we didn't fight at all, if we just skipped right to the making up. The making out. The making love.

He murmurs, "Someone's thinking about sex."

I reach around and cup his cock. "I'm not the only one." 

 

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wakes us like some old commercial and we tumble from bed and get ready to face the day. Not bothering to shower yet, we wash up a bit and throw on enough clothes to be decent. In this household. Which means a tee-shirt over a pair of boxers. "Sure this is enough?" Beck asks and I snort.

"Please. Brian will show up in his black robe and no underwear, watch."

True to form, we find Justin busy with breakfast. He waves us away so we set the table and wait for Sleeping Beauty to arrive. Which he does in a few minutes, sauntering in, black robe hastily tied around his waist, naked as a jaybird underneath, hair standing up on his head. Absolutely gorgeous. I hear Beck's jaw hit the table and wink at him. Brian takes the cup of coffee Justin offers him and kisses him in thanks. He must be feeling extra grateful because the kiss goes on and on and on. As they part, slightly breathless, Justin straightens Brian's robe and ties it more securely around him for which I am very grateful. It's one thing to have your friends lust after your dad, it's quite another to have your boyfriend thinking lascivious thoughts about your progenitor at the breakfast table.

Sprawled in his chair, Brian takes a sip of coffee and closes his eyes in ecstasy. Ranking just below sex and designer clothes, I think he loves coffee best of all his vices. And he has many.

Justin having ferried out the food on a cart, we load up the table and our plates and commence our morning meal: Belgian waffles with strawberries and real whipped cream, sausage, scrambled eggs, orange juice, and a pot of extra strong coffee just the way Brian likes it. In fact, it's the only thing he partakes of with any gusto as he just picks at his waffle and moves his scrambled eggs around on his plate.

"Will you eat, for Christ's sake?" Dad tells him and Pop just gives him a half-smile and pushes his eggs around some more.

"Everything's delicious, Mr. Taylor, Kinney," Beck says, probably because he thinks Brian's casting dispersions on Justin's cooking by not eating.

"I told you last night, it's Justin, and thank you. I'm glad to hear someone appreciates my cooking."

Brian leans over and brushes Justin's knuckles with his lips, still the perfect shade of raspberry after all these years. "I love your cooking, Baby. I’m just not hungry."

"You never are," I say, then tell Beck, "I think I've only seen him eat a handful of complete meals in my lifetime."

"It's how I keep my boyish figure," Pop says, then spears a piece of sausage that Justin surreptitiously slipped onto his plate. He eats it without comment. 

 

After breakfast Beck and I shower—and fool around in the shower—before getting dressed and heading out to Munchers' Villa or the House The Munchers Built. Beck laughs when I tell him that. Of course, Pop came up with those names, probably just to piss Mel off but, true to form, Lindsay painted a sign with Munchers' Villa on it and for a whole week it hung above the doorbell until Brian begged her to take it down. This happened when I was in the first grade maybe. The formative years.

And just because no visit home would be complete without witnessing one argument between one of my parents and one of my sibs, we walk into the house to hear Mel and Indy screaming at one another.

"Why should you care if I want a nose ring?"

"It's a fuckin' bull ring!"

"Your ex had a ring through her clit."

Mel glares at Lindsay. "Did you—" she starts and then rolls her eyes. "Fuckin' Brian."

I wave from the doorway. "Fuckin' Brian's clone."

Beck waves too. "And clone's boyfriend."

Grateful for the interruption and genuinely glad to see me, Mom swoops down on us and hugs us both. "Look at you." Strokes my cheek. "My God, it's like I was in college again."

Rolling her eyes, Mel says, "Christ, another trip down Memory Lane. You did have to procreate with that asshole."

"Mel!" Lindsay admonishes. "She doesn't mean it, sweetie."

But Mel comes over and kisses me herself even though I have to lean way over to accommodate the differences in our heights. "Hey, Baby."

"Hey, Ma. This is Beck."

She thrusts out her hand and shakes his firmly. A lawyer's grip. "Good to meet you, Beck."

"Ms. Marcus."

"Manners too." She nods. "Maybe you can do something with that Philistine," she says, jerking her head towards Indy who is glowering.

Leaving Beck with my moms, I cross to Indy and punch her lightly on the arm. "You okay?"

"I cannot wait to go away to college," she sighs in full teenage drama mode.

"Believe me," I tell her, "you'll miss them when you're gone."

"I'll miss Daddy and Dad and Mom," she says, conspicuously leaving off Melanie.

Indy's problem with Mel is the same problem I have with Pop: they're too much alike. Indy's even dark like Mel although that comes from Pop's coloring as Lindsay carried her same as she did me. Still, in terms of temperament, she's Mel's clone. Which says a lot about how much Mel and Brian are alike as well. Something neither one of them would like to think too much about. It's probably why Lindsay fell in love with both of them and still loves them after all these years. "You'll miss Mama too."

"Maybe," she concedes. "But sometimes she makes me so mad…"

"That's what parents do. Remember when you wanted that motor bike and none of the parents would agree to it?"

"Except Brian."

"And even he changed his mind after Justin had a little talk with him."

"You mean reamed him out upstairs. Christ, I think the whole neighborhood must have heard them arguing."

The moms having interrogated Beck enough for the moment, they vanish into the kitchen to fix coffee most likely so I wave my boyfriend over. "Beck, this is Indy, Indy, Beck."

They shake and then Beck says, "She looks like your dad."

"Acts like him too."

"Genes will out," she says, beaming. I think it's Indy's ambition in life to be just as notorious as Pop used to be. Unfortunately, she's got four parents—five, if you count Daphne—who are unwilling to see her go down that path. Even Brian admits that although he did have fun once upon a time, most of those times were with Justin and the rest he can't really remember. Drugs and alcohol robbed him of his memories. Which is probably what he wanted at the time. I've heard him and Dad talking about 'pain management' and I guess that was his all those years ago. He still drinks too much, in Justin's opinion, but Pop says he's Irish and that's what the Irish do. In any case, he told me about his pop's drinking problem and Nana's and left it at that. Left it to me to figure out what I needed to do. So I don't drink much, a beer here and there. I'm not a big kegger, never will be. First of all, that shit they get at school is swill compared to the imported beer Brian and Justin drink; and second, I'm not into frat houses and the frat house mentality.

So Beck and I have a nice visit with the Moms and Indy and then we three young people climb into the car and head over to Daphne's house to pick up Jake. We're hitting the mall and I promised Beck a tour of the Pitts and the places I used to hang out: basically Liberty Avenue.

We go through the parent-child reunion again with Daphne and the introductions to the sib and both Daphne and Jake seem to like Beck although Jake is kinda shy around him. He's like that. Quiet. Nana says Pop was like that when he was young. Of course, he had good reason: he was trying to stay out of his dad's way, trying to keep from getting the shit kicked out of him. When I found out how Pop had been abused as a child, I got really angry with Nana and didn't want to talk to her for a long time. I couldn’t believe she let that happen to him and didn't do anything to protect him. Pop would fight a fuckin' grizzly bear to keep us from getting hurt and he's never, not even once, raised his hand to us, even when we probably deserved it. And this from a man who has a temper like a volcano. Still, he forgave Nana and I did too. I didn't have any choice, I loved her too much to stay mad.

Jake has his bag already to go and we sling it in the back of my Jeep and take off for Liberty Avenue. First stop: the diner.

Deb sees us before I push open the door and she rushes over all covered in buttons and wearing a new wig and a t-shirt that says, 'Bite me. Really.' She grabs me first and pulls my head down and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. "Oh my God, look at you! For a minute, I thought it was Brian Kinney coming through the door and I was… well, a lot younger than I am now."

"You're still beautiful, Deb," I tell her and she is, red wig, buttons and all. She's my other grandmother. "This is Beck. Beck, Debbie Novotny."

"Isn't he cute?" Coming forward, Beck allows himself to be kissed and cooed over too and when he's passed inspection, "Nice ass too," Deb moves onto Indy and Jake and kisses them like she hasn't seen them in years although it's probably only been days. "You kids staying to eat or what?"

Having suffered enough Liberty Diner-induced indigestion to last a lifetime, I shoot down that idea. "We're doing a tour of the neighborhood and then hitting the mall. We'll get something later. I just wanted to stop by and say hi."

"You going back tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

She indicates Beck with a motion of her head. "Coming to meet the folks, huh? How'd that go? Brian behave himself?"

"What do you think?"

Deb cackles. "That Justin probably had to yank his chain a little."

"Just a little."

"Hey, Beck," she says, "the next time you and Sonny Boy come home and have some time to sit and chat, I'll tell you all about Liberty Avenue's most notorious couple and their torrid love affair."

"I'd like that."

Before we go, Jake hits Deb up for a couple of lemon bars. He's Justin's kid all right. Munching them in the back seat of the Jeep, he asks, "When's lunch?" 

 

With Jake spending the night at Brian and Justin's place, Beck and I move out of his space into the guest room. They've updated the linens but everything else looks the same. This room was officially the guest room but unofficially Molly's room when we were younger. I used to have a crush on her when I was a little kid but that passed once I realized I liked boys better than girls, somewhere around eleven or twelve. Like Pop, I was an early bloomer. Unlike Pop, I didn't act upon my feelings until much later. Still, we keep in touch and I call her sometimes to talk about school. She's been married for a few years now and is a professor at Carnegie Mellon. Archaeology Department. She met Ando on a dig in Greece.

After Jake settles into his room, he finds Brian and the two of them play video games in the family room. Only for Jake would Brian play a video game. When I was younger, that was one of Justin's duties. Not that Pop didn't play with me but he didn't do video games. Now he and Jake spend hours racing virtual stock cars. I think Pop's mellowing out a little. He'll be fifty next year and maybe all the rough edges are finally starting to wear away. Some of it, I think, has to do with Jake's situation. His mom's single and Black and his dad's married, gay, and White. He takes a lot of shit from kids at school same as me and Indy and, like Pop, Jake is a fighter. He doesn't take stuff lying down so he gets in trouble in school and Daphne and Justin have to go down and have parent-teacher bullshit conferences. Mel and Lindsay did the same thing for me and Indy cause Indy has a lot of mouth and me, well, I'm Brian Kinney's clone, enough said. In any case, Jake can talk to Brian and he does and I think it keeps him balanced, keeps him focused on what's really important: being the best he can be and fuck everything and everyone else.

While Jake and Brian play, Justin cooks and it's like being a kid again. Except that now I have someone to play with myself. We go up to the guest room and kick off our shoes and lie down on the bed and kiss and, pretty soon, we're slipping off jeans and t-shirts and sliding hands inside of briefs and, before you know it, Beck's tightening around my cock and I'm holding him by his hips and watching him rise and fall.

We shower before dinner and come down to knowing looks from both Brian and Justin. Even Jake grins and I wonder if they heard us fucking. Beck's cheeks are flushed and then he laughs and I laugh too and all of us settle down around the table: a company of men. 

 

Justin sends Brian on an errand of 'national importance' the next morning: they're out of half and half and Justin refuses to drink his coffee black, in fact, he's about to throw a Drama Princess tantrum of the first degree. Not that he has to because what Princess wants, Brian gets. With a kiss goodbye, Brian grabs his keys and asks me to tag along. I do, knowing we're going to have another father-son talk. I have to admit that my heart races a little, I hope to God he's not sick. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him.

"I’m not dying," he says in the car, anticipating my fear.

"Fuck." I let go of the breath I'd been holding. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Can't a father talk to his son without death being involved? You're as bad as Indy. That girl is fixated on death. Did she tell you she wanted to get a skull and crossbones tattoo on her ass?" He shakes his head. "What the fuck was I smoking when I jerked off into that cup?"

"Pop!" I laugh though cause Indy is a piece of work.

"So, I like this boy," he says, signaling a left turn.

"Good."

"Not that it should matter to you that I do."

"It doesn't."

He glances over at me. "Asshole."

"Like father like son."

His laugh fills the car and he grabs me by the ruff of my neck. "I'm glad you came home."

I smile at him. "Me too, Pop." 

 

Pulling out of the yard, the Dads and Jake waving to us, Beck and I begin our journey back to New Haven. Beck is flipping through the autographed copy of _Prince Gus and the Feline Cavalier_ that Justin gave him. I took him out back this morning to show him where Leo I, the inspiration for the Feline Cavalier, was buried. I remember crying for days when Leo died. It was like losing my best friend. Granted, by then, he was so old all he did was sleep all day in Justin's studio but he still managed a meow whenever I went over to see him. Even Pop shed a tear when Leo died, muttering about having developed allergies like Justin.

"Well," I say, "you survived a visit home."

He beams, crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes. "They were great. I wish my family was like that."

"You're just saying that because you haven't met all of the family. There's still Uncle Mike and Jeff, Auntie Em, and Ted. And Molly. And Nana and Nana Jenn, and Granddad." Vic died a few years back. I wish Beck could have met him. I miss him. He had the same dry humor as Pop. I sometimes think Pop's a lot like him, that maybe Vic was the father Brian deserved. And wanted.

Beck strokes the hair at my temple. "I bet they're all fabulous."

"Yeah," I confess, "they are pretty cool." And they are. I wouldn't trade them for any other family in the world.

"Your dad is even hotter in person."

"Hey!"

Laughing, Beck says, "But I have the younger version and he's pretty hot himself."

"How hot?"

"I'll show you when we get home."

And although I just left home or what I've always thought of as home, maybe Beck and I will have a place of our own someday with a couple of kids running around and a feline cavalier dozing lightly in the sun.


	6. Fifty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian celebrates his fiftieth birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a birthday story for my friend, Adrianne, who'd asked me about Brian and Justin's other kids a long time ago. This is just a little taste of the future.

"Your father's acting strange," Justin said as he beat six eggs for a Western omelet.

"What else is new?" Perched on a stool, Gus watched his dad chop vegetables and was reminded of all the weekends he'd spent at the house and the mornings he'd get up and sit in the kitchen while Justin fixed breakfast. Brian would either be asleep or running on his treadmill and when he finally put in an appearance, Justin would make a joke about him being Sleeping Beauty and Brian would kiss him and they'd all sit down and eat. He missed that. Being in college so far away had its drawbacks but Yale had an excellent architecture program and he'd been extremely fortunate to be accepted and to have parents who could afford it.

"Well, he's freaking out big time about turning fifty. I don't know what the big deal is about."

Gus blinked his eyes in disbelief. "Turning fifty. That's the big deal."

"He's so vain."

"I know someone who'll be turning forty in two years. Let's see how you like that."

Justin brushed his hair back from his forehead and formed a moue with his mouth. "I don’t care. I still look thirty." And he did. Forever youthful, that was him. "And Brian doesn't look a day over forty."

He didn't. Gus was constantly amazed by how young his parents looked despite having had to deal with three kids and each other for over twenty years. "What did you expect? Dad's a Drama Queen par excellence."

"I prefer Drama Empress, if you please," the birthday boy said sauntering into the kitchen and bussing his son on the crown of his head. "Morning, Baby," he said in greeting to Justin and they kissed and kissed again, threatening to forget about breakfast and Gus.

"Take it upstairs, you guys," Gus told them, shaking his head.

Brian pecked Justin one last time and headed for the coffee. "Why is this freeloader here again?"

"Your birthday," Justin replied.

"Oh."

Justin pushed him in the middle of his back.

"Hey!" Luckily, he hadn't actually started pouring the coffee.

"Don’t say fuckin' Oh to me, asshole. I've been planning this for months."

Rolling his eyes, Brian said, "You shouldn't have bothered."

His skills as a negotiator in demand, Gus asked, "I can't wait to see Jake." He'd gotten in late the night before and hadn't had a chance to see either his brother or sister.

Finished with the vegetables and ham and cheese, Justin put a pan on the stove. "He'll be over this afternoon. Indy too."

"The whole gang'll be here," Brian groused, taking a seat next to Gus at the island. "And for what? Just to see an old geezer try and blow out fifty fuckin' candles." He paused before sipping his coffee. "There'd better not be fifty candles on that cake," he warned.

"What cake? Who says there's going to be a cake?"

"From Gaia's."

Justin snorted. "For someone who's not interested in celebrating their birthday, you've got a lot of demands."

"Might as well do it right."

As he watched his father drink his coffee, his robe hastily belted as always, Gus couldn't believe how amazing he still looked. Hazel eyes just as sharp, even behind the reading glasses he sometimes wore; chestnut hair streaked with grey but that only served to make him look more distinguished and, besides, Justin had grey hair too, it was just harder to see since he was blond. He had crow's feet at the corners of his eyes but that seemed to be the only concession to aging that he had made skin-wise; and he was still as lean as he'd always been: he often boasted that he'd only gained five pounds over the years.

Justin had thickened a bit but he was still slender, still Brian's little boy with his bright blue eyes and golden hair, no matter how many gray hairs peeked through here and there. He often joked that he had to remain young or else Brian would lose interest in him and find another twink to take his place. No one believed him. He and Brian loved each other fiercely, despite the arguments and spats, and the separations they endured because of their individual careers. Their love had only grown stronger over the years, time had not diminished it one whit.

"So what'd you get me?" Brian asked Gus.

"Normally, you have to wait until your party to find out," he answered.

"When have we ever done anything normally?"

"Well, you'll have to wait."

"Christ. You're just like your mother."

Gus shook his head. "Uh-uh. I'm just like you." Everyone said that at 20 he was the spitting image of Brian at that age. Sometimes when he went to visit his Nana she confused him with her son, thinking time had slipped away and Brian was a young man again.

Turning off the stove, Justin divided the omelet into thirds and slid a portion onto each of the three plates he'd set out. "Come and get it."

The three of them carried their plates to the family room and sat at the table the way they used to and talked about school and Gus' plans after graduation next year and caught up on the things they hadn't talked about during their twice monthly calls.

After breakfast, Brian went up to shower and dress and Justin started calling around to make sure everything was set for the party that afternoon. Left to his own devices, Gus decided to go and see his moms. Peeking his head into Justin's studio, he told him, "I'm going around to the house."

Justin waved him away as he was on the phone with the caterer but smiled to let Gus know that he appreciated the heads-up. Then mouthed, Let Brian know.

So Gus ran upstairs and found Brian shaving. He remembered being a little boy and watching Brian shave and being fascinated. Brian used to put some shaving cream on his face and he'd use his finger and pretend to shave just like his dad.

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

"I'm going around to see Mom and Mama."

"Don't let them talk you into being straight. Your sister's dating some guy and they're freakin' out. They figure one of you should like pussy."

"Don't worry."

"Good boy. By the way, why are you here by yourself?"

"Because Beck and I broke up. Remember?"

"I figured you'd have someone else by now."

"Well, I don't."

"All right," Brian said, holding up a hand to ward off any further bitching. "I know when I'm being told to mind my own business."

"Not everyone's as lucky as you and Dad," Gus told him.

Brian smiled softly. "You'll find someone. Won't be as good as Justin but he's hard to beat."

"Yeah, he's pretty amazing."

"Until then, have fun."

"I do. Did I tell you about the time I—" Gus laughed at Brian's expression. "Never mind."

"Great. You know I can only live vicariously these days. Justin's got me on a tight leash."

"Like you're complaining." He waited until Brian had wiped his face clean and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See ya later, Pop."

Every time he got into his car, he grinned. It was probably really bad form to love an automobile as much as he loved his but he couldn't help it. As he tooled around New Haven in his Jeep he thought about Brian's old Jeep and how they used to drive around with the top down, their hair ruffling in the wind. When it came time for Brian to retire the Jeep and get a more "mature" car, Gus thought he'd never seen a sadder person. So when his parents agreed to get some wheels, Gus had opted for a Jeep. Not new, not by a few years, but he loved it. Black just like Brian's used to be, and when he drove with the top down, he imagined the way Brian must have looked cruising for guys on Liberty Avenue back in the old days. Hotter than hell. There were pictures of Brian when he was younger and he'd definitely been outstanding. Gus was outstanding too but his nature was different. He supposed he was more like Justin in that regard. He'd grown up watching them together, watching his mothers, and he'd wanted to find a mate too. He hated dating, hated all the useless ritual. But he didn't have a choice. Great guys didn't just fall out of the sky, you had to go looking for them. He had thought he'd found one in Beck but they'd crashed and burned after a year of going out. He didn't know what the hell had happened except that they'd gradually grown apart until finally the only thing holding them together had been the sex. And that hadn't been enough.

Pulling into the Munchers' yard, he smiled. It was great seeing the house again. Even though he'd just been home at Christmas, it seemed like forever since he'd been back to Pitts. Before he'd gotten out of the car, Mel and Lindsay had come bounding out of the house. As had Brian and Justin, they'd aged well. Melanie's hair had gone grey in the front, giving her a grey stripe on one side of her hair, which prompted Brian, in one of his less charitable moments, to quip that she'd finally revealed her true nature. Lindsay's hair was going silver and she looked beautiful. She had good bone structure and Gus often teased her and said that eventually she'd look like Kathryn Hepburn. Showing her patrician roots.

The women hugged him and fussed over his hair (too long), his clothes (didn't he have any jeans that didn't have holes), and his driving (he drove too fast, they could hear him coming down the street).

"Where's Indy?"

"Out with him," said Mel, rolling her eyes.

"Don't get her started," Lindsay said. "Ricky's a nice boy. It's just that…"

"He's a boy."

"Right."

Mel grumbled as they entered the house, "It comes from spending too much time with Brian. Figured she'd go looking for an asshole just like him." Seeing the look on Gus' face, Lindsay nudged her and she remembered that he was gay and just like Brian. "Sorry, Baby." Kissed him. "You know I don't mean it."

Gus laughed. "If you didn't call Pop an asshole at least once a day, I would think I'd come to the wrong house."

He hung out all morning and had lunch with them. Around one, Indy came home being trailed by a very limp looking teenager. Gus wasn't exactly sure what to think about his sister's choice but he put aside his misgivings and hugged her and shook the guy's hand when she introduced them. Ricky didn't stay long, saying he'd come back later and pick Indy up for the party. Mel sighed audibly and even Lindsay looked paler than normal.

"What?" asked Indy once Ricky had left.

"I thought we agreed that this would be a family celebration?" Lindsay explained.

"Is Michael coming?"

"Yes."

"And Ted and Em."

"They're family, honey."

"Why don’t you just admit that you don't like Ricky?"

Mel shrugged. "Okay, I don’t like Ricky. There. So what does that solve?"

Indy growled and stomped upstairs.

After a moment, the rest of the family laughed. Wiping her eyes, Lindsay said, "You know, she really is just like you, Mel."

"God save us all," her partner replied.

Ready to play peacemaker, Gus went upstairs and knocked on his sister's room.

"Come in." She must have known it was him. "They send you up?"

"No." He sat on her bed next to her. "So, what's with this Ricky guy?"

She grinned mischievously. "Isn't he horrible?"

"Indy!"

"He's nice enough but he drives them crazy and I love it."

"So you're just playing him?"

"No. I like him. I do." She ran her hand through her cropped hair, darker than his, dyed he was sure. "He's just some guy, you know? It's not like I'm gonna marry him or anything."

"So what does Pop say about him?"

"Hates him." She suddenly sobered. "But, at least, he and Dad didn't try to talk me into becoming a lezzie."

"Mom and Mama would never do that."

"Please, they're like Lesbian Recruiting Officers."

"India Peterson, you're lying."

She kicked him softly with her bare foot. She hated wearing shoes. He did too. It must have been a Kinney trait. "Do you have to be so serious all of the time?"

"Sorry. It comes from being part of an insane family."

"Speaking of family, have you seen Jake yet?"

"No. What's up?" Since he had been away at school, Indy had taken it upon herself to keep him updated as to the goings on of their youngest sibling.

"I don't know. I think he's having some trouble at school again. He and Daddy have been spending a lot of time together."

It was ironic that Brian was closer to Justin's biological son than Justin was himself. Gus supposed it had something to do with the fact that Jake was a lot like Brian had been: wild, undisciplined, and too damn smart for his own good. And, like Brian, Jake had taken a lot of shit at school. It was hard enough being a biracial child without one of your parents being a single mother and the other a gay man in a committed relationship. Although, in some ways, Jake was the luckiest because by the time he'd come along, Brian and Justin and Mel and Lindsay had had communal child rearing down to an art form and they'd welcomed Daphne into the fold without any trouble. So, really, Jake had three moms and two dads. But when two of your moms were lesbians and your dads were gay, well, it wasn't always easy. Gus knew that well. He'd had more than one scrape at school because someone had said something about his parents. Same thing with Indy. So they both tried to be there for Jake, to make sure he understood that he wasn't alone. And he had Brian, who was the only one out of all their parents who seemed to be able to talk to Jake when he was so angry he couldn't see straight. Maybe because Brian had felt that way himself growing up, for different reasons.

"I'll try and talk to him at the party."

"Good luck," she snorted. "It's gonna be Drama Queen Central."

"Pop's already had one grand hissy fit this morning. I don’t know why Dad bothers sometimes."

"Cause he loves Daddy." She turned thoughtful. "Do you think we'll ever be like them?"

"You're kinda young to be thinking about settling down."

"I think I'm going to be like Daphne. Just have lots of boyfriends and never get married."

Leaving Mel and Lindz to deal with Indy, Gus decided to stop by Daphne's house instead of returning to his fathers' place.

She opened the door and hugged him hard, looking him up and down. "You look just like Brian did when I first met him. Least, I think so. You'd have to strip before I could be sure."

He laughed. She hadn't changed in all the years he'd known her. Like Justin, she seemed ageless. And she'd remained bubbly despite having become a doctor working primarily with pediatric AIDS patients. The kids loved her and her spirit had yet to be broken. "Where's my little brother?"

"Probably in his room wrapping Brian's present. He finally decided what to get him today and he wanted to wrap it himself. Go on up, I've got to finish getting ready."

Gus checked his watch. Shit. It was getting late. He sprinted up the stairs and found Jake in his room, just as Daphne had said, and he was trying to wrap Brian's present and doing a piss poor job of it. He definitely hadn't inherited Justin's artistic ability. "You need some help with that?"

"Gus!" The boy threw himself at his big brother and hugged him hard.

"What have you got there?"

Jake showed him. It was a model of a classic Jeep, the kind Brian had had all those years ago.

"Sweet." He tried to straighten the paper on the box and handed Jake the tape to dispense.

"You think he'll like it?"

"Without a doubt. He'd have a Jeep now if Dad would let him."

"Daddy B says that when he retires, he's getting one no matter what Daddy says."

Gus laughed. "I wanna be there for that fight."

"Me and Daddy B watched the Indianapolis 500 last year and he got us tickets this year for my birthday."

"Excited?"

"It's gonna be cool."

To Gus, it seemed that Jake was the only one of them who looked like both his parents. He was, as everyone said, the spitting image of Brian; Indy, for some strange reason, looked like Mel even though Lindsay had carried her; but Jake had curly, dark blond hair courtesy of Daphne and Justin, and he had café au lait skin with dark brown eyes. Still, for all of his parental resemblance, Jake had bonded with Brian.

Gus finished with the present. "There."

"Thanks."

"Hey, you wanna go over with me? I'm heading back to the house."

"Cool."

So Gus told Daphne Jake was going with him and he put the top down and they turned the radio up real loud and pretended they were driving in the Indy 500.

Brian and Justin were yelling at one another when they got to the house. They could hear them as soon as they opened the side door. Gus grimaced. "Maybe we should go to the mall."

"But the party's in an hour," Jake pointed out.

Gus took a deep breath. "Once more into the breach."

"Huh?"

"Shakespeare. Come on." They entered the house and found Justin sitting in the family room visibly upset. His cheeks were flushed and he looked as if he were about to tear someone a new asshole. The likely candidate was standing by the French doors to the backyard and he didn't look any more composed. Jake cautiously approached his dad and sat next to him.

"Hey, Jake." Justin smooched him on the forehead.

"Hey, Daddy."

Maintaining an equal distance between the two men, Gus said, "Should I even ask?"

"Your father is being an asshole," explained Justin.

"It's my fuckin' birthday and I should be able to spend it anyway I want to."

"Not an hour away from the goddamn party that I planned for a month, that you knew about, and that you gave your tacit agreement to!"

"What's going on?"

"Ask him," said Justin.

"Pop?"

"I don't want a party. What I really want is for everyone to leave me the hell alone." And he pushed open the French doors and went outside.

Justin muttered, "No judge would convict me. If I killed him, no one would blame me."

Before Gus could respond, he heard a car door slam. "I think the caterers are here."

"Shit." Justin stood, then paused, unsure of what to do.

"I'll talk to Pop. Don’t worry, there'll be a party."

Kissing Gus on the cheek, Justin went to answer the door.

Gus shook his head. "Never a dull moment." Went in search of his father. Found him seated on a bench in the backyard smoking a cigarette. Something he rarely did anymore unless he was stressed out. Gus waved the smoke away and sat down.

"I'm not putting it out," Brian told him.

"I didn't ask you to."

"He send you out here?"

"No, he didn't. I came out here all on my own to see why you're acting like a total shit."

Brian cut his eyes at his son, then stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm half a century old."

"So? Nana's seventy-two and Deb is sixty-eight."

"I think I'm going to hurl."

"You're supposed to be celebrating today."

"Celebrating what? The fact that my ass is about to hit the ground?"

"Your ass is not about to hit the ground. You don't even have enough ass to hit the ground," Gus pointed out.

"And I donated sperm for you," groused Brian.

"Dad worked really hard putting this party together because he loves you. Even though you're an ungrateful, aggravating pain in the ass most of the time and especially now that you've turned fifty."

"You can go now."

"Sorry, I'm here until Monday."

"You are staying over at the Munchers tonight, aren't you?"

"Why?"

"Birthday nookie," Brian explained with a lecherous grin.

"If you don’t apologize to Dad, I think a solo birthday handjob might be more like it."

He blew out his breath and stood. Looked Gus' outfit up and down. "You are changing, aren't you?"

"You are such a label queen."

Brian walked with his arm across his son's shoulders. Unable to resist, he checked the label in Gus' shirt. "Jee-sus. And I send you money for clothes."

"I spend it on pot."

"I hope you're getting the good shit, then."

When they reached the house, Brian went over and hugged Jake and told him to go upstairs and make sure Gus put on something decent. "Jake's got better taste than you do," he teased but they all knew he had some major crow to eat and didn’t want an audience.

Whatever he'd said to Justin, it had done the trick and the next time the boys saw them, they were kissing their way to their room, going to "get dressed" they said.

Gus turned on the radio and laughed. 

*

Looking around at his huge, extended family, Gus was reminded of why he loved coming home: Emmett was demonstrating his latest dance creation to Michael who was trying to slip away; Ted was busy trying to convince Mel and Lindsay to invest in some new company he'd discovered; Deb and Joanie and Jennifer were looking through Brian and Justin's wedding album for the hundredth time; Daphne and Jake were dancing as were Indy and Ricky and Ricky actually smiled, miracle of miracles; Brian and Justin, of course, were still making up in the corner.

"Don’t you two ever get enough?" Gus asked, coming to get Justin to dance with him.

"There's no such thing as enough," Brian replied but he let his partner go with a promise to resume their kissing at a later time.

Dancing with Justin, Gus remembered his fifth birthday. There'd been presents and balloons and a huge piñata in the shape of Pikachu, one of the Pokemon. God, he couldn't believe he'd actually liked that shit. But the best part of the party had been when Brian and Justin had danced with him. Smiling broadly, he waved his Pop over and they all three danced together while everyone called out, "Go, Gus! Go, Justin! Go, Brian! It's your birthday!"

"Do the Naked Dance!" Daphne called out and he did and Lindz and Mel covered their eyes to see their twenty-year-old son shaking his package. He pulled Jake up onto the floor and his little brother did the Naked Dance too, having been taught too at an early age by Justin. That any of them could dance at all, they owed to him.

There was, indeed, a cake from Gaia's bakery: a beautiful lemon cake with white frosting, a wax 1971 candle on top, and an array of miniature classic cars modeled in sugar around the base of the cake: including a Ford Falcon, a Mercedes 350 SL, a Porsche 911, and a Pontiac GTO. Justin raised his glass of champagne, as did the other guests (including Jake who was clearly psyched to be having champagne) and said, "All of the models on the cake are classics, just like Brian. Think of it this way: you're not getting older, you're increasing in value." Their guests laughed. "And I wouldn't trade you in for anything. Salute."

"Salute."

They all drank to Brian's health and Justin gave him a huge kiss afterwards and they looked like the perfect couple; Gus tried not to snort thinking about the mega fight they'd just had that afternoon. Those two. They'd never change.

Once the cake had been eaten and the champagne bottles ran dry, it was time to leave the birthday boy and his husband to their private celebration. Gus packed an overnight bag, kissed them both goodnight, and took off to spend the night with Jake and Daphne, having decided that his little brother needed him more than his moms. As he backed out of the driveway, he saw Brian and Justin's silhouettes in the doorway waving and he smiled. He could imagine them setting the alarms, shutting off all the lights, and retiring upstairs with a private bottle of champagne that they'd left chilling in their bedroom. They would help each other undress, and slip into bed, and make love until the late hours of the night. And then they'd fall asleep in one another's arms the way they had for years. It was good to be home.


	7. Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian tells Justin a story.

"Tell me a story," Justin said, as they lay entwined in bed, too tired to make love but not quite ready to fall asleep.

Brian rolled his eyes and sighed and then pressed his lips together before saying, "Once upon a time there was this extremely gorgeous prince who was asleep in a castle. A spell had been cast on him at birth and he had slept for almost thirty years. He had slept all of his life, locked in a dream, thinking he was awake. He didn’t know the difference. To him, he was alive. His dreams seemed real, they were the only life he'd ever known. Then one day this beautiful prince came to the castle, having survived many dangerous adventures, and awakened him with a kiss. When the sleeping prince woke up and saw his rescuer, it was as if he had awakened from a dream to find that his dream had come true. They fell instantly in love and swore never to part."

"Then what happened?"

"They tore down the old castle and built a new one in its place, the home of their dreams, only this dream was real. Afterwards, they had a magnificent wedding and all of the kingdom came to witness the exchange of their vows and they lived happily ever after."

"Did they have any children?"

"Mmm hmm. Two boys and a girl."

"A girl?"

"A girl. A beautiful princess. All of their children were beautiful and smart and special, each in their own way, and they loved them very much and were very proud of them and they grew up to be good people."

"Did they ever argue or fight?"

"All the time." Brian smiled. "Their battles were legendary. Sometimes they fought for days. But they only fought because they loved one another so much that they could be themselves; they didn't have to pretend to be wise all the time, and they didn't always do the right things, but they always, always made up and they never ever thought about splitting up. They were in it for life."

"And did they live a very long time?"

"Yep. Until they were old and grey and wrinkly and nobody remembered when they were young and beautiful. Except for them. When they looked at one another, they saw themselves as they were and as they had been. And they couldn't say which was better because they loved each other more and more as the years passed."

"How did they die?"

"They celebrated their seventieth anniversary and all their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren were there and everyone laughed and danced and ate until they were stuffed and then the old couple went up to bed and they kissed the way they used to when they were young and then they fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren went up to wake them and found that they had slipped away in the night. Together in death as they had been in life."

Justin kissed Brian's chest just above his heart and laid his head against his skin. "I love you," he whispered but Brian said nothing, only tightened his hold on him and closed his eyes.


	8. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin at the end of all things.

Despite having come in from out-of-town, both boys arrived before Indy. No surprise there, she was chronically late for everything except for the one thing that really mattered to her: her work. No one on the force was more conscientious. Maybe that's why her family only occasionally ragged her about her tardiness.

Hugs dispensed even though it'd only been weeks earlier that they'd gotten together at Christmas, the four men gathered in the kitchen and ferried snacks out to the family room. Thirty years of marriage, two successful careers, and three kids later, the only concession Brian and Justin had made to their busy lives was to have a maid come in twice a week to make sure the place didn't fall down around their ears. In between her visits, they did everything themselves. Which was why they'd never exchanged their first home for something more befitting their stature and financial status. Too hard to keep up.

They still cooked most of their meals, explaining that sometimes that was the only time they saw each other for weeks other than in bed. They'd spent so much time apart over the years what with both of them traveling for work that they treasured every moment they had together. Having had three kids, sometimes it hadn't been easy to steal a few moments alone, even though they hadn't been the primary caregivers. There had always been some crisis, some problem that needed solving. Or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, there'd been soccer and lacrosse matches, basketball games, dance and piano recitals, Science Fairs, and on and on and on. Maybe in response to the dearth of paternal involvement during their own formative years, Brian and Justin had made it a priority to spend as much time as they could supporting their kids as they found their way in the world. Even if only one of them could make it, one of them had made it if at all humanly possible. Brian still joked that sitting on "all those goddamn benches" had further flattened his already padding challenged ass. When Justin replied that it hadn't done anything to his, Brian just smiled and managed to pat said ass, still fairly plump even after all those years.

"So," Gus began after they'd settled down and begun filling salad plates with food, "you gonna tell us what's up?"

"Not until your sister gets here," Justin told him, ignoring the brow Gus raised in response to his refusal.

"Jesus. We could be here all evening," Jake griped.

"One," said Brian, "would that be so bad? And, two, she called and said she was on her way."

Getting up to snag a bottle of wine from the beverage center, Jake pecked Brian on the forehead, brushing his still thick and very grey hair out of the way. "You know I love hanging with you, Pop."

Brian wasn't fooled for a minute. "But…?"

"I called Lena and told her I'd be in town so…" He smiled and flicked his tongue, a gesture so like Justin that you didn't have to know they were father and son to see the resemblance.

The older man shook his head. "How is it that with four out of five parents being gay, we end up with two straight kids?"

Before he sat back down, Jake nudged Gus with his hip. "Gus makes up for the two of us."

"Please," his brother responded, "I wish." Raising his glass to his fathers, he said, "Unfortunately, I didn't inherit the Brian Kinney tricking gene."

"You ought to be happy. What good did it ever do him?" asked Justin.

"Got him you," answered Gus.

Brian grinned. "I love this kid."

When the back door opened and slammed, all four of them sighed, "Indy."

"Twenty-eight-years old and she still slams the fuckin' door," complained Brian.

"So do you," Justin pointed out and received a look in return that was pure Brian Kinney.

"I'm here!" Indy called as she entered the kitchen.

"We heard you," Brian replied dryly and looked around as she came up behind him and kissed his cheek.

"Sit down," Justin told her as she kissed him as well. "We need to talk."

A look of concern crossed her face. "You're not dying are you?"

"No," he replied and frowned.

"Are you dying?" she asked Brian.

"No, I am not dying. What's with the dying fixation?"

Coming to his sister's aid, Gus said, "You have to admit, it's a little scary, you calling us together like this."

"You were coming down anyway for Justin's birthday party."

"Yeah, but you told us to get here early and it was not a request, it was a command."

"So shut up already." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the stupidity of his children. Only Jake remained silent, patiently waiting for his dads to tell them whatever it was they'd called them together for.

"You wanna tell them?" Justin asked him in such a way that Brian knew what Justin was saying was, "You tell them."

Drawing a deep breath, Brian looked at their kids, faces bright with anticipation yet tinged a bit by apprehension. "I've decided to retire at the end of the fiscal year." Having learned the way he operated, none of the children said anything. They knew there was more. "And Justin and I are selling the house here and moving to the house in Cetona. Permanently." In the silence that followed his announcement, he and Justin exchanged glances. "That went better than I'd thought it would," he said lightly.

"You're selling the house?" asked Gus as if he hadn't just heard him say that they were.

"And he went to Yale," teased Brian.

"I just…" Visibly upset, Gus paused to gather his thoughts. Softly he said, "You got married in this house."

"We know," Justin said.

"You raised us in this house."

"And now you're grown. You've got your own homes." Justin reached for Gus' hand and squeezed it once. "When's the last time any of you actually stayed here with us?" Even at Christmas, Gus and Jake had stayed with Indy, only coming over to the house for family gatherings.

"That's not the point," said Indy. Brian waited. "The point is, you've lived here for thirty years and now you're just going to sell it to strangers and move to the house in Italy?"

"What did you think we were renovating it for?" Brian rolled his eyes in disbelief. And these were their children.

"For holidays and vacations."

"Well, now we're going on a permanent vacation."

Attempting to put things into perspective, Justin added, "We've been dreaming about this for years. And now that you're all grown up, we figured we might as well go for it before we're too old to enjoy it."

"Speaking of which, Italy's a long way away. What if something happens to you?"

"We'll get out the telegraph machine and send you a message in Morse code," Brian told her. "Italy's not that far. You've all been there. It's not like we're isolated, we're an hour and a half from Florence, for Christ's sake."

"It's not the same thing as all of us being there on vacation. You'll be there and we'll be here," she retorted.

"That's the point," he sneered.

"You just said we're never here so why do you have to go to Italy to get away from us?" she asked, mind just as sharp as ever, looking for the slightest opening to press her point.

"We're not going to get away from you," Justin explained. "We're going to get away from winters in Pittsburgh, and the traffic, and the noise, and the pollution, and the aggravation." He smiled.

"So spend the winters in Siena," said Jake.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd pipe up," Brian said.

He shrugged. "I figured what was the point? You've made up your minds. I wouldn't be surprised if you said you already had a buyer for the house."

Gus looked startled. "Do you?"

"Actually, we do," Justin said. "An executive at the firm." Brian's firm. "He and his wife have a child and they love the house."

"We love it too." His jaw tightened so very much like Brian, Justin could almost predict what he was going to say. "But it's your house, so you can do whatever the fuck you want." He stood and left the room, going out into the backyard without his coat despite the cold January weather.

Brian looked at Justin, expecting him to go after their eldest son but Justin gave his head a tiny shake. "He's your clone."

When he was a child, he had often come out in the backyard when it was covered in snow and imagined he was an Arctic explorer searching for aliens, or woolly mammoths, or Santa Claus. The tree house Brian and Justin had built for him was still in the old oak, having done secret hideout duty for Indy and Jake too. He could remember learning to swim in the pool, Justin patiently teaching him the finer points of the front crawl. There were pictures of every birthday party they'd ever had back here and Fourth of July barbecues, graduation celebrations.

Hearing the snow crunch behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to see his Pop coming. Figured Justin would send Brian out to deal with "his clone" as they called him. Truth was, in some ways, he was more like Justin but every now and then his temper would flare up and remind everyone just whose blood flowed in his veins.

Brian laid Gus' coat over his shoulders. "You'll catch cold."

"Jake's in medical school, he can prescribe something for me."

"Don't be an ass about this."

"Fine." He started back towards the house but Brian caught his arm and made him walk with him to the bench they'd put out back years ago.

"Sit." Gus sat and Brian joined him.

"I'm sorry, Pop."

"Apologies are bullshit." Even though he'd offered a thousand of them over the years to practically everyone in his life, he still held to his credo. At least in theory.

"It's just that…" Gus paused, wondering if he'd ever be able to explain it. "I have all these memories… of us in this house." He pressed his lips together and sniffled. "You’ve been in this house almost all of my life. And all of Indy's and Jake's. No matter what, this is home."

Brian shook his head. "You think we didn't think about that before we made our decision? You think Justin won't cry his eyes out when we hand over those keys? I'll have to fuckin' console him all the way to Italy."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because…" He blew out a breath. "Because we need to get away. And not just for a month or two." Leaning forward, he clasped his hands between his knees. "We're not getting any younger and I want us to spend some time together, alone, before I can't get it up anymore."

Touching his father's arm, Gus asked, "There's not something wrong, is there?" He knew his grandfather Jack had died of cancer and he lived with the constant fear that his dad would one day tell him that he had it as well.

"Naw," Brian assured him. "Just old age catching up with my ass."

"Brian Kinney admitting to being old."

"Well, the proof is on the roof," he replied, running his hands through his hair, more grey than anything else anymore. He refused, like some of his more shameless friends—Emmett— to dye his hair. It was evidence of his enduring vanity that he believed he was gorgeous as is, grey hair and wrinkles and all. And Justin wouldn't disagree. "So, are you gonna cut us some slack about this?"

"You're not changing your minds, are you?" Brian shook his head. "I'm gonna miss you."

"We're not moving to the moon. There are flights from Pittsburgh to Florence every fuckin' day of the week."

Rubbing his nose, Gus asked, "What did Michael say when you told him?"

He grimaced. "Haven't. Not yet."

"Mom and Mama and Daphne?"

"Nope."

"When were you planning on telling them?"

"After we told you guys."

"Why us?"

"Cause they'll understand. We figured you knuckleheads wouldn't."

Gus bumped his dad with his shoulder before turning and hugging him. "I love you, Pop."

"Better." Kissing Gus on the cheek, Brian cupped his face and looked at a vision of himself thirty years younger and smiled. "Come on, let's go back in before Indy gets Justin to change his mind."

Stopping Brian, Gus said, "I'm worried about Jake. I know he seems like he's okay with this but…"

Brian nodded. "I know. I'll talk to him. Promise."

The dramatics over for the moment, the kids helped their fathers finish off the appetizers they'd fixed and then headed off to their separate pursuits. The boys were staying with Indy again and she and Gus had planned on crashing for the evening as she'd just gotten off a long shift at work and was bushed. Jake, as he'd intimated, was having dinner with Lena and there was a good chance he wouldn't make an appearance that night at his sister's—if he got lucky.

Left on their own, Brian and Justin prepared a simple salad for dinner and carried it and a bottle of red wine up to their bedroom. Deciding just a year and a half after moving into the house that they didn't need two seating areas in their suite, they'd taken out the sofa by the fireplace and placed a small dining table between the two remaining armchairs. Barely five minutes into their meal, Justin asked what had been on his mind for the last half hour. "We're doing the right thing, aren't we?"

Taking his hand, Brian kissed his fingers. "This has been our dream."

"But the kids… they took it so hard."

"They'll be fine. I talked to Gus and I'll talk to Jake tomorrow sometime. Indy…" He waved his fingers. Who knew with Indy.

"Good," said Justin. "I'm worried about him. I don't want this to affect his studies. Medical school is hard enough without having to deal with family problems."

"This isn't a problem. This is us enjoying our retirement."

"You're retiring. I fully intend to keep writing. And drawing."

Brian frowned. "But no more book tours."

Justin agreed. "No more. I'll be a modern day J.D. Salinger." He chewed his salad reflectively, then asked, "What about you? You haven't said what you're going to do."

"I intend to sleep late; get up and have a long, leisurely breakfast; take a walk out in the olive grove; maybe read a book under a tree; and take a few pretty pictures."

"And what are you going to do the second day?" joked Justin. His eyes gleamed. "Just think, we can travel together, wherever we want. Whenever. For however long. Spend a month in Vienna—"

"Two months."

"Three," added Justin, getting into the spirit of things. It had been a dream of his to spend a romantic holiday in Vienna but they'd never gotten around to it. Too busy. They'd gone for a week once but it hadn't been enough and they'd never gotten back. Funny how time just passed you by when you were busy: being successful, being parents. Brian was right, they needed this time to themselves, to be a couple again, a pair of lovers. He smiled thinking of the nights they'd spent making love in the villa the times they'd managed to sneak away for a brief holiday there in the Tuscan hills.

"You're thinking about sex," teased Brian.

"Guilty as charged." He stroked Brian's fingers. "Feel like fucking the hottest fifty-year old around?"

"You've got a few more hours to enjoy being forty-nine."

Justin grinned. "I'd enjoy them even more—"

"All right, all right," Brian laughed. "Jeez. You never give an old man a break, do you?"

Smiling, Justin asked, "What old man? I don't see any old man in here."

"Then your vision must be going."

He shook his head and gathered their empty plates, leaving the wine and glasses behind. Calling over his shoulder, he said, "Be naked when I get back." Brian's laughter followed him out of the suite. 

 

"The sooner you get out of bed, the sooner we can start celebrating your birthday," Brian told his spouse who was still lazing about beneath the covers.

"Be better off doing it in bed," Justin replied, lifting the comforter. He was gloriously naked beneath the sheets, he and Brian having celebrated a good deal last night.

Brian leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "Some of us take longer to recover," he said. "Later," he promised. Grinning, Justin got up and stretched, his buttocks lifting provocatively, tempting Brian to touch them. Which he did. Justin fairly purred as Brian stroked his ass, then drew the taller man's head down for a kiss that tempted him to call upon his reserves. Losing himself in Justin's lips and the feel of Justin's hand slipping in between the halves of his robe to run his fingers up and down his cock, Brian nearly forgot why he'd shaken his partner awake in the first place. He pulled away with a grimace and heard Justin's faint cry of complaint. "I've got breakfast ready."

"Mmm,,, Can't it wait?"

Brian pecked him on the lips again. "Nope." Popped him on the butt. "Put on your robe and let's go." Closing his own again, Brian hurried from the room. He didn't think his virtue could withstand another attack.

Begrudgingly, Justin complied with Brian's request and followed his husband downstairs where a lovely birthday breakfast awaited him in the conservatory. Despite the outlay of energy required to heat the glass room during the winter, Justin considered it an essential expense. To sit among the flowers and trees that bloomed during the cold season was something he needed to survive the harsh winters in Pittsburgh. Which was one reason why they had decided to move to Italy. In Cetona, all of the property was like one huge garden with olive trees and grapes, wild vegetables that grew in nooks and crannies uncultivated by man. Still, he'd miss this room which had been Brian's gift to him on their first wedding anniversary. This year they'd celebrate their thirtieth.

Brian had fixed his favorite breakfast: Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, Mimosas, and pork sausage that they got from a farmer in Virginia. Once a year they drove down South and restocked their supplies, depleting the hoard a few links at a time. Taking a bite of the perfectly cooked waffles: crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, Justin sighed and chewed contentedly. Then washed it down with a sip of his Mimosa. "Decadent," he said with a smile.

"Now, wasn't that worth getting out of bed for?" Brian asked, satisfying himself with half the food he'd put on Justin's plate. Some things might have changed over the years but his appetite wasn't one of them. It was still a chancy thing and this morning he had awakened famished only to have the feeling evaporate by the time he'd actually finished cooking. His mom had often joked that he lived on vapors.

Content just to be together, they spoke very little while they ate and, afterwards, Justin sat in the conservatory alone, savoring the last of the coffee, while Brian cleared everything else away. Catching his lover's hand, Justin kissed his slender fingers. "Thanks, Pookie."

"Happy Birthday." Before he got halfway to the kitchen, a phone rang somewhere in the house. The kids thought it was terribly old fashioned of them to actually have a telephone line in addition to their cells but it comforted both Brian and Justin to have a number just for their home. Putting down the dishes he was carrying, Brian answered. "Yeah."

"Figured you and the birthday boy would still be in bed."

Brian sneered even though Michael couldn't see it. "Saving it up for later."

"He must have had you up late last night then," Michael said knowingly.

"After midnight," Brian groaned.

"That's what happens when you put a middle-aged guy with a senior citizen," teased Michael.

Brian confessed, "I knew one day those twelve years separating us would come back to bite me on the ass."

"So the party's still on for tonight?"

"Definitely. The caterers and the party planners will be here this afternoon and everything should be set up and ready to go by six." He paused. "Jeff still coming?"

"Far as I know."

Brian had long ago forgiven Jeff for the story he'd done on Kenneth's funeral and suicide. So many years had passed that even the pain of losing Kenneth had faded and all that was left was a sepia-toned memory and an occasional pang of regret that they hadn't been able to grow old as friends.

Jeff and Michael had been partners now for decades having spent the first few years after the Kenneth debacle in an off-again, on-again relationship that exhausted them both to the point where they figured they'd just give up pretending that they could do without one another. Once they'd done that, things had settled down and life had progressed as smoothly as life could progress when one partner was a reporter and a vagabond by nature and the other was a definite nester. Still, Brian supposed that was the reason they'd stayed together all these years: Jeff always knew that there was someone waiting for him when he was through traveling and Michael always knew that the wait would be worth it when Jeff returned.

"Brian!" called Justin from the conservatory.

"Her Majesty calls," said Michael before Brian could tell him. "I'll see you later."

"Later, Mikey." Hanging up the phone, Brian finished loading the dishwasher, fished a bowl out of the refrigerator, and then went to see what his Birthday Baby wanted. Found him stretched out on the sofa. Naked. Pale skin luminous in the early morning sunlight that bathed him from above. He had his fist wrapped around a very impressive erection and a lascivious grin stretched across his face.

"I hope there's some whipped cream left," Justin told Brian and the man smiled, cool as ice, and showed him what he'd brought: a bowl filled with peaks as perfect as Justin's nipples.

"I saved mine for later," Brian explained.

Using his tongue, Justin summoned him and sighed as Brian used two fingers to paint his cock a lovely shade of white. 

 

Anyone would have thought the two men were going to spend the evening alone in their house enjoying a private and very romantic dinner the way they smiled when they greeted their guests. This despite having gone through an afternoon from hell wherein the caterers and party planners had engaged in a screaming match to rival the War Between the States. However, Brian and Justin had wisely stayed out of the altercation, busying themselves with getting ready to play hosts to a house full of well-wishers. And, of course, fooling around a bit in the shower, the closet, the bedroom proper, the hallway…

Most of their friends and family came in groups: Michael and Jeff; Emmett and Mario; Ted and Drew (which still shocked and amazed Brian whenever he thought about it); Daphne tagging along with Mel and Lindsay; Molly and her husband, Ando, whom they all called Andy; Claire; Justin's editor, Emile; Cynthia and her live-in, Lyle; Craig, still looking dapper despite being in his late seventies; Jennifer, who had only grown more regal as she aged; Keisha and Cecil who'd married decades ago; other friends from the neighborhood and work; and Xavier, who had driven up from DC to celebrate his friend's fiftieth birthday. Rennie couldn't make it as she was in Bonn at the moment getting ready for the opening of her latest show.

Once everyone had arrived and had a few appetizers as well as a few drinks, the waiters began circulating again to make sure everyone had some champagne. Then Brian tapped his glass to get their attention and raised his flute to a red-cheeked Justin who had never gotten used to being the center of attention despite numerous book tours and interviews. "We're here to celebrate Justin's fiftieth birthday. The one good thing about being an old man like me is that half a century still looks pretty, damn hot from where I'm standing." Their guests laughed and Justin shook his head. Brian would never change. Thank God. "So, here's to my better half. Happy Birthday, Baby."

"Happy Birthday," chimed the chorus of guests.

"Salute." And they drank to Justin's health, Brian nuzzling his neck with a kiss afterwards. "I love you," he whispered.

Justin turned his head to meet his lips. "I know."

Inquisitive as always, Emmett asked, "So, Bri, what did you get Justin for the big five-oh?"

He shook his head. "Nothing much."

Again, no one spoke. They knew the Kinney Method all too well.

"Just a Maserati Spyder. Vintage. Mint condition."

Michael almost wept. "What year?"

"2004."

"Shit."

"Ask him what I got him for his birthday," Justin told him.

"What?"

Brian pushed his tongue into the side of his cheek before answering. "Ferrari Spider. 2005. Purrs like a kitten."

The collector in him sighed. "Where are they?"

"Italy. Figured we might as well kept them there since we'll be moving to Cetona in eight months," said Justin.

The room went quiet.

"Oops."

"Oops?" said Brian incredulously. "You spill the beans and all you can say is 'Oops?' "

"More dip?" he suggested.

Rolling his eyes, Brian mumbled, "Here it comes."

"So," said Lindsay, sliding up beside Brian, "you've got it all figured out, do you?"

Groaning, Brian knocked back the rest of his champagne. "Least I know where Indy gets it from."

"Gets what?"

"Her incredible capacity to nag."

Offended, Lindsay said, "I have no intention of nagging you." Before they could sigh in relief, she added, "Merely to remind you of the facts."

"Lindz… if this is going to be another lecture about how old I am and how far away Italy is, save it. Indy already covered that ground."

"Not you. Deb and Jenn and Craig. Your mom might be gone but they're still here and they're not getting any younger."

Although Craig and Jenn lived alone in assisted living communities, Deb had decided to remain in her house, cohabiting with a live-in helper courtesy of Michael's chain of comic book stores.

"Michael's here. He can look after Deb and Molly and Andy can take care of Jenn and Craig."

"Besides," Justin cut in, "it's not like we're abandoning them. Italy's not that far away."

That Michael had fallen silent hadn't escaped Brian's notice. Giving his friend the signal, he made his way to the French doors leading to the backyard. "Gotta smoke," he told Justin although his spouse knew very well why he was going out there.

In silence Brian lit up a cigarette and waited while his best friend figured out what he wanted to say and how. Then, in typical Michael fashion, he said, "I don't want you to go."

"Well, if you did, that'd be exactly three of us. And some days I'm not so sure of either me or Justin." Shook his head disparagingly.

"Then why are you doing this?"

Brian offered him the cigarette but Michael refused. He put it out. Justin would be happy with him. "Cause it'll be our last, great adventure," he answered with a soft smile on his face.

Immediately concerned, Michael touched his arm. "You're not...?"

"No." Brian shrugged. "But I’m sure it's around the bend. Someday," he said. Cancer, he meant. It'd taken his dad and a goodly number of relatives on the Kinney side of the family. He was only waiting for his number to be called up. "And I don't want to be in Pitts, regretting what I didn't do, when it happens."

"What regrets?" Michael asked. "You've done everything you've ever wanted to do."

"I want to spend time with my husband. I want to putter around in the garden and take long walks to fuckin' nowhere and fall asleep under the most incredible sky you've ever seen. Being there, Mikey, it feels like home."

"You're Irish. Ireland's home."

"Who knows? Maybe some Romans came to Ireland back when they were conquering Britain. I might actually be part Italian somewhere back along the family line." That would explain his uncanny resemblance to Michelangelo's David something all the visitors to the Galleria dell'Accademia commented on the day he and Justin toured the museum. "I can't explain it, but this feels like the right thing to do."

Something in his tone told Michael that no matter how many doubts Brian might have about moving to Italy, move he would. There was a longing in his eyes that Michael had never seen before and he knew that staying here in Pitts was not the answer. "How long have you and Justin been planning this?"

"We started kicking the idea around when we first bought the house in Cetona but neither one of us was really serious. It seemed kinda crazy, packing up and moving to Italy. Then, a few years back, when I was first thinking about retiring early, we talked about it again and it didn't seem so crazy anymore."

Silencing any other objections, Michael hugged his friend. "Then I hope you two are happy there."

As they returned to the party, Brian spotted Justin talking to Xavier and decided this was a good time to corner Jake about coming over and seeing him tomorrow. It took a while to find him among all the people as most folks wanted him to stop and talk about their plans to move to Italy but when he did find him, finally, he laughed out loud. Jake and Lena were holed up in his old room making out. As they broke apart, blushing furiously, Brian chuckled. "You're Justin's kid all right."

Assuring Lena that it wouldn't take long, whatever his Pop wanted, Jake closed the door behind him and struggled to keep a straight face as he and Brian stood out in the hallway. He lost the battle and he and Brian giggled recalling a similar situation years before Jake had even been born. Wiping his eyes, he asked, "So what's up, Pop?"

"Come by the house tomorrow? Have brunch with your old man before you leave town?"

Just the two of them, that's what Brian was telling him which meant there was something he needed to talk to Jake about. The medical student knew what the subject of conversation would be: the move to Italy. No one had been fooled by his studied nonchalant attitude. "Sure, Pop."

Brian gestured to Jake's old room. "Better lock the door. Both doors," meaning the one from the guest bathroom as well. As he left, he grinned, pleased that he hadn't been struck blind by seeing a straight couple make out.

Touching Keisha's arm in passing, Justin and Xavier went out into his studio and closed the French doors behind them.

"Well," said Xavier," now I'll have somewhere to stay when I'm in Italy."

"Please, the way your stuff is selling, you could buy your own place."

"Yeah, but I like DC. Besides, Nana Rose would kill me if I moved to Italy and nothing could get her to leave the District. So…" He shrugged. "I'll make do with visits." With a small smile, Xavier confessed, "It'll be strange, you being so far away."

"We hardly see each other anymore," Justin pointed out to him.

"But it was different because I could see you if I wanted to. Or rather, if you had wanted to see me."

Head bowed, Justin said, "I wanted to see you. I just thought it'd be easier for you if we didn't." Xavier had been singularly unlucky in love, none of his relationships had lasted and it looked as if he'd end up alone, with only his art to comfort him. Justin had been acutely aware of the fact that Xavier had envied him to a degree because of his marriage and also that the man still loved him. Maybe not as intensely as when they were younger but the love was still there. As for his feelings, he still cared for Xavier but whatever passion he'd felt for him had long ago dissipated.

"You're right," replied Xavier. "There were times when I wanted to see you so badly but I knew I had to stay away. For both of our sakes."

"Xavier…"

The sculptor's eyes glistened. "I still love you, J. Always will, I guess. I suppose that's why I never… I never could get it together with anyone else, make it work."

"I'm sorry." Justin ached for his friend.

"I'm not. Growing up in the projects, losing my mom when I was just a kid, that was some good shit to channel into my art but it was nothing compared to loving you for almost thirty years." He chuckled. "Nana Rose used to laugh and say you must have had some ass to keep me dreaming about it after all these years." And it sounded so much like her that Justin laughed too. "But that wasn't it. It was…" He fell silent, unable to put into words just what kept him in love with Justin but he didn't have to explain because Justin understood.

It was what he felt for Brian, an indescribable feeling that you'd found that missing part of you that you may not have even been aware was gone, that feeling of wholeness, of finally being complete. It was the relief you felt after having come, magnified a thousand times. And a feeling of security, of being safe, being cared for, cherished. Slipping his arm about his friend's shoulder, Justin kissed his cheek. "You're the only other person I've ever loved in my life," he said, fingers resting lightly on Xavier's honey-colored skin. He smiled. "Come on, there's some champagne left and if I let Brian drink it all, he'll be unbearably silly the rest of the night."

Unfortunately, Brian was already behaving terribly silly, he and Mikey putting on an impromptu reunion of the World's Worst Rock 'n' Roll duo. Rescuing their guests by pretending to need Brian on party business, Justin ushered him off to the kitchen and force fed him a cup of strong black coffee.

Thinking he would be alone, Xavier climbed the curved steps to the second floor and walked out onto the balcony just off the library. Someone else was there, leaning over the balustrade. Tall and lean. For a moment, Xavier thought it was Brian and then he realized it was Gus. His guess was verified as the man looked around and smiled.

"Hey."

He really was beautiful. An almost carbon copy of Brian but with subtle differences. He wasn't quite as tall, his nose wasn't exactly the same, and if you looked into his eyes they seemed softer somehow, as if the green among the brown came from moss on trees rather than emeralds embedded in hard stone.

"Hey," replied Xavier. "I didn't know anyone would be out here. I'll just—"

Gus turned all the way around and leaned back against the railing. "Stay. Keep me company."

So Xavier took a seat at the table Brian and Justin had put out here even though they hardly came out on that particular balcony. Gus, on the other hand, had loved it and had often sat out there while he was growing up.

"This is one of my favorite places," he said and Xavier noticed that he didn't say "was" he said "is".

"So how do you feel about the big move?"

He grimaced. "Hate it." Blinked and his hazel eyes seemed to gleam in the moonlight. "But I have to let go of it. This house and the dream that we'll always be here." He smiled ruefully. "Everything changes, no matter how hard you fight it. Best you can do is try to keep it together, you know?"

"I know."

The expression on Gus' face shifted almost imperceptibly. "You've never stopped loving him, have you?"

No point in equivocating. "No."

Gus folded his arms and studied Xavier, eyes having gone almost completely green. "I saw your pieces in the Hirshhorn when I was down in DC on business a few months ago. It was amazing, your stuff sitting next to Picasso and David Smith."

"I can hardly believe it myself sometimes."

Without looking away, Gus said, "There was a time in my life when I hated my dad… because he was all you could see."

Xavier's breath seemed to ebb away.

"Even in a room full of people, it was like there was no one else in the world but Justin." Gus pressed his lips together. "I couldn't compete with that. So I put that dream away too." He pushed off the balustrade and started past Xavier when the older man caught his arm.

"Gus." He couldn’t believe what Gus was saying—implying—no saying. Gus had wanted him, still wanted him. And how did he feel? He'd always thought Gus was attractive but he'd watched him grow up, used to play with him when he was a toddler. He'd never thought of him sexually. Yet, here he was, a grown man, a very attractive man who was telling him that he was attracted to him.

In the silence that had ensued, Gus had made some assumptions. "It's okay. I'm a big boy. I'm used to disappointment."

Xavier stood, his head but a hair's breadth lower than Gus'. "So am I. But that could change. Maybe it's time we both let go of some old dreams and started working on some new ones."

If Justin was surprised to see Xavier and Gus coming downstairs together, looking as if they'd discovered Aladdin's cave, he had no time to ruminate on it as a ruckus had just broken out between Brian and Indy.

"Why are you so dead set against us going to Italy?"

"Because this isn't the best time!"

"Why not? What are we waiting for? The summer solstice, the vernal equinox?"

"I’m pregnant!" she yelled and the room went silent. Even the waiters stopped in their tracks.

In the silence a voice rang out that sounded like the tolling of the bells in Notre Dame. "What did you say?" It was Mel and pissed did not even begin to describe her mood.

"I said I'm having your first fuckin' grandchild." You had to give it to Indy, she didn't back down, not a whit. Came from growing up with Mel and Brian as parents and Justin and Lindsay who were every bit as stubborn as their more volatile spouses.

Justin sat on the edge of a chair. "How do you like that? Upstaged at my own goddamn birthday party." 

 

The last of the caterer's staff had gone and Brian gratefully locked the kitchen door and set the alarm. Finally. Only the night was far from over. He fully anticipated having to stay up another couple of hours at least while he and Justin talked and/or made love. As exhausted as he was, he was hoping the desire for sex won out as he didn't think he could stand any more talking tonight. Especially since he had the sinking feeling that Justin had changed his mind about moving in light of Indy's news. Despite her initial anger at having heard about their grandchild in such a public forum, even Mel had started cooing over the mother-to-be and it was all they could do to keep Lindsay from running out and buying baby clothes in the middle of the night. And Justin, his eyes had lit up like Gus' used to on Christmas morning. As for Gus, something was up with him and Xavier, they'd left together and it didn't take a genius to figure out there'd be some moaning and groaning going on in Xavier's hotel room tonight. Brian suddenly felt very dizzy and out of his depth.

Closing the door behind him he saw that Justin was still dressed and sitting on top of the bed. Bad sign. That meant more talking. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for an extra-long session. But Justin only stood and met him at the side of the bed. Kissed him deeply and said, "We are not having a party for your birthday."

"Just skipping right to the good part," Brian told him as he began pulling Justin's sweater over his head. 

 

2

 

Thirty years. He very nearly panicked when he woke up and realized that today was his thirtieth wedding anniversary although he and Justin had been looking forward to it and planning for it for weeks. Despite wanting to spend as much time at the house before they sold it, they'd decided to go away to the inn where they'd spent more than one anniversary. Unfortunately, that plan had been scrapped. The kids had nearly revolted when they'd found out that they weren't even going to be home for their anniversary. So, instead of looking forward to a quiet dinner and a night of making love, they had to endure a brunch in their honor. Maybe they'd still get a chance to do dinner alone and, of course, making love was definitely on the agenda for later. If not sooner.

Having awaken before Justin, Brian propped his head on his hand and lay watching his spouse sleep. After all these years, it still remained a guilty pleasure. Unable to help himself, he reached out and traced the edge of Justin's bottom lip with his finger. Justin woke and those blue eyes trapped him as they always did. Brian could feel his heart swell against the bindings Justin had placed around it. Leaning forward, Brian kissed him. Whispered, "Happy Anniversary."

Justin smiled. "Best way to wake up." He held up the covers as Brian moved closer to him and eased an arm and a leg over him so that they were pressed against one another. Even after thirty years, they still got excited about making love. Rolling them over so that he was on top of Brian, Justin rubbed against Brian as they kissed, one cock stroking the other. Brian cupped Justin's ass and covered it in feather-light touches, urging his lover to grind harder against him. He loved the feel of Justin's cock against his belly, especially when it got hard, leaving traces of precum on his skin. Although it took them a little longer to get stoked, once the fires roared, the flames didn't die down for a good long time. Justin said it just stressed the importance of foreplay, something young people didn't appreciate in their hurry to fuck. He often bragged that he'd been fortunate to have an older lover, someone who had loved to keep him on the edge of coming for as long as he could. Justin remembered an endless progression of nights that had lasted way past midnight, Brian teasing him almost to the point of no return, only to ease off and begin again, driving him crazy. But those had been some of the best orgasms of his life. Not that they hadn't all been fantastic.

Brian loved kissing his way down Justin's body, his lover still so slender that he could fit him in the hollow of his am and hold him as his lips traveled the length of his torso.

His nipple ring put away years ago, his nubs were no less sensitive and responded to Brian's lips by stiffening and standing out from his chest as if they were yearning for Brian's mouth, which they were. He arched his back and Brian swirled his tongue around one stiff nipple, then the other.

Down his chest. Over his belly. He left kisses all over his skin and then shifted so that he lay between Justin's legs. Nuzzling his spouse's full sac, he began kissing up his shaft, the plump head his destination. Before he'd reached the halfway point, Justin had fisted his cock and was pointing the head towards his lips. Smiling, Brian opened his mouth around the tip and kissed it gently. Flicked his tongue over the end. Justin sighed. His Baby was hungry so he gave him what he needed, closing his lips over Justin's cock head and sucking the swollen cap until Justin cried out in pleasure. Sliding down the length of the shaft, he thumped the turgid organ with his tongue until the first of the precum began bubbling up at the tip to smear over the roof of his mouth. There was no inch of Justin's cock that he did not know intimately and he flaunted his knowledge by doing all the things Justin loved best: digging into the tip of his dick with his tongue, sucking the bump where the shaft met the head, and running his tongue up the large vein that stretched up from his balls. He worked Justin over until the younger man began to pant, signaling that he was getting close. Brian let his cock slide slowly from between his lips. Bussed the head one last time and then lay next to him, stroking his nipples and prick again as he turned his attention once more to Justin's lips, kissing him so deeply his tongue was able to run over Justin's back teeth.

Caught up in a kiss that threatened to undo him, Justin knew he had to distract himself, had to turn the tables on Brian before he spewed all over them both. Pushing Brian away, he crawled on top of him and straddled him, head over Brian's crotch. He wrapped his fist around his cock and French kissed the end, probing the opening with his tongue as his lips formed a tight seal around the cap. He could hear Brian groaning and grunting, could feel his cock hardening in his grip and he continued to maul his dick with his lips and tongue, even running his teeth gently over the edge of the head. Precum wet Brian's cock and Justin's hand and lips and face. He licked it from Brian's dick, purring contentedly.

Brian shivered. Nothing turned him on so much as Justin getting turned on enough to purr. Especially if he had his cock in his mouth at the time. His eyes having narrowed to slits, he opened them a bit, and then wider, mesmerized by the sight of Justin's hole quivering in front of him. Each time Justin applied pressure to his cock and pulled up, his hole drew in and then relaxed. Brian knew what Justin wanted. He wanted a thick cock buried up his backside. He'd get it. But first, Brian would make him beg for it. Wetting his fingers with spit, Brian grasped Justin's balls and began fondling them. Having gotten Justin's attention as evidenced by the way the purring increased in volume, Brian slowly ran the fingers of one hand up the muscle that stretched from his balls to his asshole. By the time his fingers reached his hole, Justin's lips had gone completely slack around Brian's dick. But instead of going directly for the center of Justin's ass, Brian encircled the flesh around the knotted opening, moving alternately closer and then farther away until Justin said in a strangled voice, "Christ!" Brian took his hand away and, amidst Justin's complaints, wet his fingers with lube. Then, using one hand to spread Justin's hole open, he eased two fingers inside his ass.

"Yes," he moaned, feeling a little dizzy. Face laying on Brian's cock, Justin worked to keep from crying out as Brian fucked him, his fingers sinking down into his ass only to slide back out to the rim. Justin's hole relaxed, Brian added a third finger and held on while Justin bucked a little. When the fourth finger joined the others, Justin stiffened and cried out, then settled back down to enjoy his husband's ministrations.

He twisted his fingers as he entered and exited Justin's hole, first quickly then slowly, fascinated by the differences in sensation that it provided both he and Justin. He alternated between deep and shallow strokes, sometimes only sliding his fingers in an inch, working the rim of his ass, other times going deep down enough to massage his prostate.

It was after one such foray when Brian's finger had bumped into his prostate that Justin jerked and reached back to still Brian's hand. "Oh God," he panted. "Fuck me. Fuck me." His cock was rock hard and his ass ached to be filled with a stiff prick. "Fuck me…"

Withdrawing his fingers, Brian got up on his knees behind Justin and lubed his cock. Justin held onto the footboard and his breath as Brian mounted him, releasing his breath all at once as Brian's cock pushed past his prostate. He trembled as his husband buried his cock inside him and paused.

Grabbing hold of the footboard as well, Brian supported himself as he fucked Justin's ass. The bed shook as he plowed him open, forgetting they were neither one of them young anymore. All that mattered was his cock and Justin's ass.

Justin twisted his head to the side and moaned. Recognizing Justin's call for what it was, Brian latched onto his mouth and kissed him hard as they fucked. They'd both be achy tomorrow but they'd make it through most of today, jazzed on the buzz from this session.

Loathe to part, Brian pulled out anyway and drew Justin back further onto the bed. Flipped him over and put a pillow up under his hips to help him maintain the right angle. They actually loved fucking doggy-style but sometimes Brian needed to feel Justin's legs around his waist and this was one of those times. With Justin holding his legs up by the knees, Brian leaned over him and entered him. Mouth open, Justin crossed his legs behind Brian's back and held on.

From the moment he'd slid back inside Justin's warm hole, Brian had been lost. Hips pumping in a blur, he buried his face in Justin's neck and let his body do what it would. How many years had they been fucking? And each time he pushed inside him it felt like the first time, like something magical. Add to that feeling the fact that Justin knew how to work a man's dick with his hole until he had you screaming. He knew how to tighten and relax his muscles with such skill that it felt like he was sucking you off even as you fucked him.

His own cock sliding along Brian's belly leaving a trail of precum, Justin relished the feel of Brian's dick tunneling up his ass. God, there was nothing like that feeling even after so many years. Brian's cock was perfect, was still something worth waiting for, worth begging for, worth opening up his legs and ass for. Throwing his head back, he shouted and came, cum smearing between their bellies. His hole tightened around Brian's prick and his husband grunted and jabbed him hard.

"Uh," Brian groaned and he came inside Justin's ass with a feeling of relief. 

 

Returning to the dining room from a long journey to the kitchen, Indy said, "Well, at least the kitchen and the dining room are next to each other in the new house. Old house." She shrugged. "The house."

With a sigh, Brian asked, "We're not having that discussion again, are we?"

Gus shook his head. "No point, is there?"

Indy looked at her brother as if he'd just stabbed her in the back. "Oh, now that you and Xavier are cozying up to one another, you don't care that Dad and Daddy are moving halfway around the world."

"You know, Indy, pregnancy really brings out the inner cunt in you."

"Hey!" shouted Mel. "Watch your mouth."

Justin rolled his eyes and sipped his wine. It would have been so nice to celebrate alone. Had been nice this morning, lazing in bed while the hours slipped away.

Ever the peacemaker, Lindsay tried to calm everyone down. "Could we please, just once have a normal meal like a normal family without all the yelling and shouting and name calling?"

Which made it worse.

"What exactly do you mean by normal?" Brian asked. "You mean like breeders?"

"Your daughter's a breeder," Mel pointed out.

"So's one of your sons," said Daphne.

"One," Brian replied, "technically Indy isn't a breeder since her baby's daddy came out of a vial and she didn't have to fuck anybody to get it; and, two, neither is Jake as he hasn't fathered any kids. That we know of," he added.

Before tempers could erupt again, Justin stood up. Quiet descended upon the table as they waited to hear what he had to say. Only trouble was he hadn't known what he was going to say when he sprang out of his chair. So he just stood there for a moment before sitting back down. Brian smirked from the other end but said nothing.

Unfortunately, Indy did not. "You're not having an Alzheimer's moment are you?"

Jake exploded. "Gus is right, you are a cunt sometimes."

"Okay!" Everyone looked down at Brian. "I don't want to hear the word cunt spoken again at this table. I'm a fuckin' faggot, for Christ's sake, the last thing I want to have to think about is pussy."

"This is helping," Justin muttered under his breath.

"As a matter of fact, how about we all just shut the fuck up and eat so that all of you people who don't live here can take your asses home and we can get some peace and quiet?" There was silence for a second and then the sound of forks striking plates as everyone prepared to launch into their own individual diatribes. Disgusted, Brian got up and tossed his napkin down in his chair. "Hell," he mumbled and left the room.

Justin surveyed the table and spoke softly as was his way. "Thanks for a lovely anniversary brunch." He followed Brian and found his husband sitting in the conservatory, staring out at the backyard. Hearing him come, Brian held out his hand and made room for him on the sofa.

"Sorry, Baby."

"No, you were right." Justin bussed his cheek. "What a complete and utter clusterfuck." He laid his head against Brian's shoulder.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway of the conservatory. They turned and saw their family standing there, everyone gathered around Gus who held two boxes in his hand. "Happy Anniversary."

Motioning with his head, Brian gave them permission to enter the space. They did and stood around shamefacedly while Gus handed his fathers their presents. Afterwards, he moved next to Lindsay on the other side of the room while they opened the boxes.

As usual, Justin tarried over opening his present, taking his time removing the top with its shiny silver bow. The boxes were dark blue with silver accents, mirroring their wedding colors. Brian had already gotten his open and sat staring at the contents in disbelief. He looked up at his family and smiled softly. "You assholes."

Justin finally lifted the top and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my God…"

Always the first to venture forth after battle, Indy crossed to her fathers. "You like them?"

"They're… they're amazing," Justin said, removing the ring from its box. "Where'd you get them?"

"Place in Jersey," Gus said.

"Ten diamonds, one for every three years you've been together," Jake explained.

Brian held the ring between his fingers. It was exquisitely beautiful.

"Platinum," said Gus. "Just like the ones you already have. They're even engraved."

Justin looked at the inside of the ring. A lifetime is not enough.

"We know they can't replace the ones you have but maybe you could wear them on special occasions or something," Indy suggested, showing more tact than anyone would have suspected her of having.

Brian held up his right hand. "Got two hands." He held out his ring to Justin and Justin did the same with his. Exchanging them, they very solemnly placed the anniversary bands on one another's right hand. Then, in the presence of their family, they kissed as they had so many years ago, Brian holding Justin's face in his palms. "I love you," he whispered as they remained close together, foreheads touching.

"Always," Justin promised. 

 

3

 

In remembrance of the first time they'd celebrated Brian's birthday in the house, they had supper outside in the courtyard off the living room. Only this time they didn't have to worry about Leo getting out accidentally. He'd died years ago and been buried in the back yard with a little stone marker proclaiming him to be "Leo I", their intention having been to purchase another kitten and name him Leo II, "Like the Pope," Brian had said. But they hadn't been able to bring themselves to buy another cat and, with their schedules, it had probably been for the best. Now that Brian was retiring and he was going into semi-retirement, Justin suggested they wait until they moved. Maybe they'd find an abandoned kitten and give him a home in exchange for keeping the mice away.

Like the first time, they split up the cooking duties, Brian grilling Porterhouse steaks outside and Justin fixing appetizers inside. There was even a cake from Gaia's, although Gaia's daughter now ran the main bakery while her mother held court at the smaller, original location, presiding over a new crew of assistants. Over the years they'd had twink cakes and dildo cakes and once even a cake in the shape of Justin's ass. He'd made the mold himself and then had an aluminum pan cast from the mold. Gaia had laughed for days after delivering that cake to them. Tonight there was just a simple carrot cake, pedestrian but delicious nonetheless.

The lights they'd purchased thirty years ago to string in the wisteria still worked and glittered overhead as they ate beneath the trees' twinkling canopies. Brian very nearly sighed as he chewed his steak, prepared just the way he liked it. Over the years he'd gotten Justin to eat his medium rare instead of well-done but he would never convince Justin that rare was the way to go and, even now, he sat wrinkling his nose at his husband who laughed and finished his meal.

"Sometimes," Justin said, "it feels like it's still 2003 and we've only just started out."

"And then you look over at that old guy sitting across from you and you know that's just a dream," Brian snickered.

Justin put down his wine glass and reached for Brian's hand. "You're still beautiful. I still dream about you and wake up wanting you."

"You wanna have cake upstairs?"

Answering with one of his hundred megawatt smiles, Justin began gathering the dishes to take inside.

 _"You've gotta hope  
"That there's someone for you   
"As strange as you are   
"Who can cope   
"With the things that you do   
"Without trying too hard…"_ 1

They loved that old song and were pretty fond of the movie too except that Brian didn't really care for Emily Watson at all. "Too skinny," he called her as if he weren't whipcord thin himself. Still, they liked Adam Sandler and they loved the song. Each year, usually on their anniversary, they danced to it. This year they dragged it out again for Brian's birthday. Dancing in their suite, they reminisced about all the other birthday celebrations they'd enjoyed or endured since moving into the house including Brian's infamous 50th birthday extravaganza that almost didn't happen.

"Well," he admitted when Justin asked him why he'd changed his mind, "Gus is pretty persuasive." After his son had talked to him, Brian had realized what an ass he was being and had gone in and apologized to Justin as he should have.

"That he is," Justin agreed. Then he brought up the subject he'd been wanting to bring up for weeks now, ever since Gus had confessed that his one-night stand with Xavier had progressed to being something a lot more serious despite living in two different cities. "So what do you think about him and Xavier?"

"I think Gus is a smart kid and he wouldn't get into something he couldn't handle. He can handle Xavier."

"Just seems so strange. I mean, Xavier's old enough to be his father."

"He's only seventeen years older than Gus. Same as you."

"Like I said, he's old enough to be his father."

"A very young and sexy father."

"You think Xavier is sexy?"

"I think you are sexy."

Justin smiled despite himself and shook his head as Brian kissed him.

"And I don't want to think about our son having sex with someone we've both had sex with," he added which let Justin know that Brian had concerns about the relationship as well but, as was his way, he'd decided to let Gus handle as he saw fit.

"I'd much rather think about having sex with you," Justin told him.

"Why think about it when you can just do it?"

Laughing throatily, Justin led the way to their bed. 

 

4

 

Raising her glass, Cynthia offered a toast. "To Brian Kinney: the toughest, sharpest, and smartest son of a bitch to ever run an ad campaign." The other members of the firm's senior and junior management staff agreed and clapped and hooted before drinking a toast to their soon-to-be ex-boss. As Brian kissed her cheek, she wished him good luck.

"I intend to have a ball. Or maybe two." He raised a brow and she giggled. "So… don't tell me you got me a gold watch for my retirement gift."

Signaling someone in the back, she shook her head. "I know better. Close your eyes," she told him as the guy returned with the gift. Brian complied and waited until she gave him the word to open them.

It was a print of an Italian castle. Obviously a reproduction but done on quality paper and beautifully framed. It would look perfect in their place in Cetona. Lost in the details, he realized he was being rude and wrenched his eyes from the print. Gestured at it. "Thanks, guys. This is really great. Justin will love it."

"Surprised he's not here," she said.

"I think he's having a hard time with this. Not that he doesn't want to go. He just… it's hard… leaving home."

"What about you? No more ten hour days, no more deadlines…"

"I figure we'll be so busy packing up the house here that it'll feel like I'm still at work. But," he confessed, "once we get there and get settled, it'll be harder." He bit his lip. "Luckily, I've got my cameras and the car. And there are plenty of places we want to see, things we want to do. I'll be fine."

"We're gonna miss you."

"Nah," he said. "Hell, it'll be a chance to do things your own way for a change. Besides, you'll be retiring in what? Five years?" Cynthia had worked her way up to chief operating officer of the firm and there was no one better. They'd lose a valuable partner the day she retired. Of course, there were any number of young hotshots waiting to take both their places. Looking out over the sea of eager faces, watching the dealmakers at work even at a retirement party, he grinned. Such was the way of the world. It waited not a moment, not even for an old player to take his final bow. 

 

Placing the last folder into his briefcase, Brian looked around the office he'd occupied for the past thirty years. He could have moved into a larger office once Sears had retired and Ryder had taken his space but he hadn't wanted to. He'd set down roots in this office, despite some of the less pleasant things that had occurred in there, namely Kenneth's suicide. Even though the carpet had been replaced more than once, he could still see the stain where Kenneth's blood had been spilled. Could still hear him say, "I would never hurt you." If only Kenneth hadn't hurt him. But he'd survived.

Justin pushed open the door and caught the pensive look on Brian's face before it could completely disappear. "You okay?"

"I was just thinking about things." He didn't want to say.

"Kenneth?" He knew the way Brian operated, knew he could not have thought about Kenneth on this day of all days.

"Such a waste," he said, a line drawn between his brows, and said no more on the subject. He closed his briefcase. "Didn't think I'd see you down here today."

"I thought you might need some help."

Brian grabbed his coat. "Get that?"

Justin picked up the print from the sofa. "Nice."

"For our new place."

"Our new old place?"

Brian smiled and flipped off the lights, leaving behind the ghosts of his past. 

 

5

 

There were any number of ways Brian liked to be awakened in the middle of the night: Justin's cock pressing against his hip, Justin's mouth on his cock, Justin's mouth on his mouth… But to wake up to the jarring sound of the telephone ringing was not one of them. As his partner sat up, Brian grabbed the phone from the bedside table. "Yeah?"

"What time is it?" Justin asked sleepily as if Brian knew the answer to that question.

"Brian?"

It was Lindsay. Instantly, he became alert. "What is it?"

"It's Indy. She's at the hospital. We're at the hospital. The baby's coming."

Brian said aside to Justin, "The baby's coming."

"Shit," he said, throwing back the covers.

"I guess we're heading over," Brian told her before hanging up. Joining Justin in the closet, they dressed in silence. Before leaving, Brian grabbed his digital camera and a package from his dresser drawer.

Mel was waiting for them when they arrived at Allegany General. "Lindsay's in there with her." Since there wasn't a father, Lindsay was serving as Indy's coach. Having had two children, she was more than qualified. Mel, who had been Lindsay's coach during both of her deliveries, was more than happy to sit out this one. The whole miracle of birth phenomena always seemed a bit messy to her. So while Lindsay had her hands full keeping Indy relatively calm, the rest of her parents (minus Daphne) sprawled out in the waiting area either trying to stay awake or trying to come down off the ceiling. They spent the next few hours jerking around like frogs being submitted to electroshock therapy.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Lindsay came out with the good news. "It's a girl."

"Yes!" said Mel, who had wanted a girl to break the gender tie in the family. Now there would be five women and four men. Until the next child was born.

"Glad it wasn't twins," Justin whispered to Brian.

"How's Indy?" Brian asked.

"She's definitely your daughter. The language…" Blushing, Lindsay recounted a list of the more colorful words Indy had yelled during labor to the amusement of the other people who had gathered in the waiting room. "But she's fine. We'll be able to go in and see them in a little while."

"What's the baby look like?" Mel asked.

"She's got hair like Indy's."

"Before or after the dye job?" as India always dyed her hair a deeper brown than it was naturally.

"Before."

"Father could be blond or brunet," Justin said.

Aware that some of the other waiting room occupants were eavesdropping, Brian said loud enough for them to hear, "Well, I'm sure you get what you order at the old sperm bank," which earned him a smack on the arm from Justin.

Mel cut her eyes at the both of them, then turned back to her partner. "What else?"

"She's got hazel eyes, almost green. Just like her granddaddy's."

"Christ," groused Mel, "she would go out and pick an anonymous donor who looked like that asshole."

In due time the nurse came out and gave them permission to go back and see Indy and the baby. They almost didn't recognize her, she looked so vulnerable. Indy had made it a point never to look vulnerable which wasn't hard to do as she was tall and had dark, piercing eyes which she used to her advantage. Lying in bed with a newborn in her arms, she could have been a modern day Madonna. And not the musical one with literary pretensions. However, as soon as she saw her parents enter the room, Indy the lioness reared her head.

"Too late," Brian told her. "We saw you."

"What?" she challenged.

"You looked like you might actually be someone's mother," he teased.

And she smiled. "I am someone's mother."

As the three grandparents who hadn't seen the baby yet crowded over the bed, Lindsay asked, "Picked out a name yet?"

"Jett."

"Huh?" asked Mel.

"Jett. Like Joan Jett. I wanted to name her after Nana but I don't really like Joan as a name so I picked Jett."

Accepting her convoluted thinking, they inquired after her middle name.

"Michelle, after Nana Jenn."

"Jett Michelle Peterson," said Lindsay. "I like it." She and Mel took the baby from Indy and cooed over her while Justin tried to get a peek in edgewise.

As if he'd suddenly remembered it, Brian handed Indy the package he'd brought with him.

"What's this, Daddy?"

"Open it and find out. Jeesh, how many drugs did they give you?"

"Not enough," she said, sticking out her tongue. Indy opened the plain-wrapped package and exclaimed, "Daddy, it's beautiful."

"Your Nana made it and she gave it to me for safekeeping. For whichever one of you had the first grandchild."

It was a blanket, knitted out of the softest, creamiest yarn imaginable. Indy ran it over her cheek. "This is amazing."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "So are you. And Jett."

After taking a number of pictures to send via email to the boys who wouldn’t be able to make it down for a while and to Daphne, Brian and Justin returned home to make good use of the few hours left in the night.

The next morning they slept in late and then got up and downloaded Brian's pictures to his laptop and sent them to Daphne and Gus and Jake. They also sent files to Jennifer and Craig and Michael. Michael would see that Deb and the guys got a look at Indy's new daughter.

Over breakfast, Justin looked thoughtfully at his cup of coffee.

"Gerbil's working overtime." An old joke which still brought a wisp of a smile to Justin's face.

"Brian…"

"Yeah?" He finished off his bagel and debated getting another. Waking up in the middle of the night had thrown his body off balance. It wanted lunch even though it was barely ten.

"What if we waited a while before we moved?"

"Waited why?"

"Because of the baby."

"For how long?" he asked.

Justin shrugged. "I don't know. A couple months… maybe just until Christmas."

"Or just after Christmas, or just after your birthday, our anniversary, my birthday—"

Justin knew what he was doing. "Brian—"

"There'll always be an excuse."

"It's not an excuse. Our first grandchild was just born."

"I know that, I was there."

"Then why can't we stay to enjoy her a little bit?"

Brian decided to play hardball. "Look, either we move to Italy as planned, when we planned, or we stay here. Because there will always be something to keep us from going if we postpone this."

"Just a few weeks—"

"We said the end of August, so either we do that or we don't. It's up to you." He sat back in his chair and waited for Justin to make a decision. His lover fidgeted a bit due to the intensity of Brian's gaze.

"Brian…"

Refusing to be swayed, Brian said, "You choose. One or the other." He folded his arms and waited. At first he was sure that Justin would say, "Fuck it, we're staying," but he knew that, deep down, Justin wanted to go to Tuscany just as badly as he did.

Already beginning to pout, Justin said, "Fine. We go when we said we'd go." He avoided Brian's grasp then relented and reached for his husband's hand. "You're right. If we don't go now, we'll never go."

Now that Justin had agreed to see reason, Brian softened his tone. "Besides, we've got three more weeks left. There's plenty of time to spoil Jett before we leave." 

 

During one of Jett's fitful naps, Indy and Justin crept out onto the balcony for a glass of lemonade and a talk.

"So why'd you do it?"

Indy grinned. "Have you seen her? She's beautiful."

"You're the last one of the kids that I'd have ever expected to have a child."

"I suppose."

"Then why'd you change your mind?"

"When I was little, you know who my heroes were? Shuttle pilots, astronauts, and the guys who fly the firefighter planes. Every since I could remember, I've wanted to fly."

"But you're grounded."

Now that she'd become a single parent, she didn't have the luxury anymore of having a risky job. Not that she needed to work, there was money enough in her trust fund for her to live comfortably, but she wanted to work, wanted to remain productive. So she'd resigned from the force and hoped that something came to her, some kind of direction, a path she could follow. In the meanwhile, she was plenty busy being a mom. "I know. But see, it came to me one day, that my heroes had changed. I don't know what it was, what specific thing triggered it, but I was thinking about you and Daddy and Mom and Mama and Daphne and I realized just how amazing you guys really were. To have raised all of us kids together couldn't have been easy. But you did it and you never made us feel unwanted or unloved and you treated us all the same. I never thought you loved Jake more than me because he was your blood relation and I wasn't. I never felt closer to Gus than to Jake because we had the same parents and Jake didn't. You made us feel special."

She poured some more lemonade, took a sip. "I remember the first time I read one of your books and realized that was me in the story, that Princess India was me and Prince Gus was Gus and Prince Jake was Jake. That was us. You'll never know how good that made us feel. When some asshole at school picked on one of us because our fathers were a couple and two of our moms were a couple, we would think, 'You might have a normal family but none of you losers have books written about you.' And when Daddy would come to school and the teachers would drool over him, it was worth every single nasty thing they'd said to us because we knew he didn't give a shit about any of them, men or women, because he loved you. We knew that our family was better than any other family out there because we had all of you and Nana and Deb and Michael and Em and Ted." Pausing and wiping away a tear, she said, "I want that too, Dad. I want to be some little girl's hero. The way you all were to me."

Hiding his emotions behind a swig of lemonade, Justin said, "I guess I'll have to keep writing after all." Gestured with his head. "For Jett and the other grandkids." 

 

The last piece of furniture had been boxed and was on its way to Florence where a freight truck would pick it and the rest of their belongings up and ferry them down to the house in Cetona. They'd sold or given away a number of pieces that wouldn't fit the new house either style-wise or size-wise. With only one dining area, there was no need for two sets of furnishings so they'd kept the trestle table and given the smaller one to Jake who'd been living in his place for a year without any dining room furniture.

Walking through the now empty house, they were reminded of the first time they'd entered it, in Jenn's company, their desire to own it growing with each step. By the time they'd arrived on the second floor, Justin had known that he didn't want to live anyplace else. The house had spoken to them, had responded to their need to put down roots by being everything they'd wanted. And now they were leaving their home for another house.

He was haunted by poltergeists, listening to the sound of running feet and laughing children, to friends recounting old stories for the hundredth time.

"Baby?"

He turned and saw Brian watching him from the doorway to their bedroom suite. The master bedroom in their new house was much smaller: intimate, and cozy yet they'd managed to make this space feel cozy and intimate as well.

"They're here. It's time to go." The new owners had arrived and were anxious to take possession of the house.

Justin ran his hand over the frame of the door leading the courtyard stairs. How many times had they used those stairs to go down and sit in the courtyard among the fragrant wisteria? He left that doorway and walked over to the French doors that opened onto the loggia. They'd had hundreds of romantic meals out there, overlooking the backyard. He glanced down at the pool. Could see himself and Brian kissing in the water, making love on the chaise lounge poolside.

"Baby…" Brian had crossed to where he stood. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his neck. "You know the first thing I want to do when we get to our new place?" Justin shook his head, too upset to speak. "Take a nap." He got a smile as he'd intended. "And then I'm going to strip down to nothing and dive in the pool." Another kiss and a smile. "And if I'm lucky, maybe my sexy, young husband will join me." Justin turned in his arms and laid his head upon Brian's chest. He knew that he was crying, could feel his shoulders shaking. Brian kissed the top of his head and said, "It's okay. We can stay as long as we need," because he didn't know if he could walk away either.

Gus had just about run out of excuses to give to the house's new owners when his fathers appeared in the bend of the stairs. "Here they are," he said unnecessarily as they could all see and hear them coming. "Hey, Pop."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Brian told Kevin and his wife.

"No problem. We'll be spending the rest of our lives here, a few minutes won't hurt."

Wanting to punch him in the face for being an insensitive prick, Brian held his temper and turned over the keys.

Justin paused before stepping over the threshold for the last time. "I hope you'll be as happy here as we were."

The wife, who spoke very little, said, "Thank you. I promise, we'll take good care of it." It must have taken a great deal of courage for her to say even that much and Justin appreciated it even though he thought his heart would break.

Then, looking ahead of him, he saw Brian waiting, holding out his hand. Taking it, Justin walked with Brian to Gus' car and they got in the backseat together.

 _Oh it's enough to be on your way  
It's enough just to cover ground   
It's enough to be moving on   
Home, build it behind your eyes   
Carry it in your heart   
Safe among your own_ 2

"You okay?" Brian asked and Justin smiled as brightly as he had the day they'd moved into the house.

"I'm fine." Home was where Brian was and, as long as they were together, it didn't matter where they lived. Still, it didn't hurt that they'd exchanged their Mediterranean-style villa for a Tuscan villa in the hills of Siena. He laughed and snuggled close to Brian. Everything would be all right.

They were spending the night at Mel and Lindsay's place and then taking an early flight to Italy the next day. Of course, the Munchers had planned a small going-away party just for their family and close friends. Which, in their case, meant a house full of people. Brian had hoped to leave without any fanfare but clearly that was not to be. In any case, now that Justin seemed to have pulled himself out of his funk, maybe a party would tolerable.

Aware that the guests of honor would need their rest before the long flight to Europe, Mel and Lindsay started the party as soon as they arrived. The gang was all there—even Deb put in a rare appearance. Leaving their significant others at home, Em and Ted showed up alone as did Mikey. Only Gus had brought his current lover along as Xavier was still one of Justin's oldest and best friends. Putting aside any awkwardness, Justin and Xavier hugged one another like they used to in the old days.

And, as he had done at all their parties, Brian circulated with his camera, capturing moments for posterity. Especially since this might be the very last time they'd all be together. No one said it but it was on all their minds. He came across Molly and Daphne with their heads together in the corner. "Uh oh, this looks like trouble."

"We were just remembering the first time we had a bon voyage party for you two and you headed off to Europe. Remember?" Molly asked.

"You asked us what we wanted you to bring us back," Daphne said. "And I told you—"

"You wanted a new Italian boyfriend to replace the old one," he said with a grin, certain they hadn't expected him to remember. "And Molly wanted a model pony."

"So what are you bringing us back this time?" Molly fixed her eyes on her brother-in-law and waited.

Looking at them now, at the women they'd become, it seemed almost impossible that he'd watched them both grow up. But he had. And he'd miss them no less than he would the guys. Brian blinked rapidly a couple of times and replied, "It'll be a surprise." Smiling softly, he moved on.

Jenn and Deb were perched on the sofa with Indy and Jett, talking about Joanie and how much she would have enjoyed being at the party today. "She would have been proud of you, honey," Deb told Brian as he joined them.

"Why?"

"Because you proved them all wrong and you made it. You and Justin."

"Certainly proved me wrong," Jenn admitted. "The first time I saw you, at that showing, I thought you were trouble."

"I was," he agreed.

"Maybe. But you've made Justin happy and you've raised three beautiful children together."

"And that's what counts," Debbie added with pride. "And you've never forgotten your friends. You're a good man, honey. I'm proud of you."

Giving her a kiss on the cheek, Brian said, "Thanks, Mom." Looking around for Justin, Brian spotted him heading for the kitchen.

He and Xavier had gone in there to talk. Specifically about Gus. Uncharacteristically forthright, Justin got to the point. "You won't hurt him, will you?"

"He's too damn tough to be hurt."

"That's what I thought about Brian, but it wasn't true." Xavier, of all people, knew that.

"Gus isn't Brian. Believe it or not, he's a lot less vulnerable."

"He's been lucky. He's had us to love him. Brian never had that when he was growing up. And he's been through a lot of shit, things he should never have had to go through."

Xavier held up his hands in surrender. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like I was knocking Brian."

Justin shook his head. "This is crazy. I'm about to pick a fight with you when I might not ever see you again."

"J, you're going to Italy, not the Antarctic."

And wasn't that what he and Brian had been telling everyone? "Fuck." He sniffled. "I wonder if I'm going through some kind of mid-life crisis."

"You mean menopause?" Xavier slapped Justin on the back as the two of them laughed. They embraced each other. "Be happy."

"You too." They parted. "And make my son happy."

"Will do."

The guys went outside so that Brian could smoke. He'd all but given up smoking but every now and then he indulged in a well-deserved cigarette.

Arrayed about the back porch, the guys reminisced about days gone by. And even though they'd lived their lives, they found it a little difficult to reconcile their former selves with the people they were now. Or, rather, they wanted to believe that they'd been smarter, less naïve, and more together than they had been. In actuality, they'd been extremely lucky.

"Gosh," said Emmett, still having retained a little bit of Hazelhurst, Mississippi even after all this time, "who would have ever thought we'd end up like this?"

"Like what?" asked Ted. "Successful? Happy?"

"You with a partner," said Brian. And Drew no less. Hopefully the therapist believed in doctor-patient confidentiality because he didn't think he could stand having his friends know every secret he had.

"What about you?" Ted inquired. "No one, and I mean no one, would have ever thought you'd be celebrating your thirtieth wedding anniversary. Not the Great Brian Kinney, King of the Backroom and Stud Extraordinaire."

"One person did," said Michael. "Justin."

"True," Emmett agreed. "From the very beginning, he knew you'd be his."

"Ah, youth," commented Brian.

Pensively, Em said, "It's going to be strange, without the two of you around."

"Well, they have this newfangled contraption called a telephone and it allows you to talk to friends who are far away. You know? Reach out and touch someone?"

"I'd like to reach out and touch you," threatened Emmett.

"Why, Em," camped Brian, "I never knew you felt that way about me."

The guys laughed as he'd hoped and the maudlin moment passed but Emmett had only said out loud what they'd all been thinking.

"Anyway," Brian added, "you guys can come and visit us in Italy. There's plenty of room." None of the guys had come over since they'd had the house although the kids and their mothers had visited one summer.

"I've always wanted to go to Rome. Check out those hot, hunky, sweaty gladiators."

"There haven't been real gladiators in Rome for centuries," Ted informed him.

"A gal can dream, can't she?"

"So what exactly do you plan on doing in Cetona?" asked Ted.

"Tend to the olive grove and the grape vineyard, maybe plant a few flowers, some vegetables, take a lot of pictures, lounge around the pool, and fuck my brains out."

"Now, the last sounds like you but the rest… I don't know. Squire Brian, landowner, doesn't seem to be the real you."

"I've done everything else, why not?"

Michael raised both brows. "You sure you won't get bored?"

"I'll be living with Justin, of course, I won't get bored."

"That's true, life has never been boring as long as Justin was around."

Em laughed and said, "I think that's why Brian's hair went grey so early."

"Fuck you," said Brian and ran his fingers through his hair. "I like it. It makes me look distinguished. Otherwise no one would believe I'm as old as I am," he boasted.

Which cracked the guys up. "Always the dreamer," quipped Ted.

The hour grew late and, at last, the moment came that they'd all been dreading: it was time to say goodbye. The kids and their mothers would see them off tomorrow at the airport but for everyone else, this was it. As they prepared to part, there was sniffling all around prompting Brian to say, "Sounds like an allergy experiment in here."

Craig hugged Justin and shook Brian's hand, the years having erased any animosity between them. It was hard to hold a thirty year grudge and Craig had changed for the better and become a pretty good grandfather and a decent father-in-law. Exchanging hugs with the two men, Jenn and Molly wished them well, Jenn already making plans to come and visit so that she and Justin could go to the museums in Florence together. Smiling through the tears, Justin waved goodbye as his family took off in Molly's car.

Next Ted and Emmett left, embracing Brian and Justin tightly and promising to visit as soon as they could.

"But not too soon," said Brian. "We'll still be on our honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" snorted Ted. "You got married thirty years ago."

"Our second honeymoon. The Tuscan air always does wonders for my—"

Justin cut his comment short. "I can't wait to see you guys again."

With a final hug for each of them, the two best friends went out into the darkness.

Although they'd managed to get through saying goodbye to Jenn and Molly and Craig and Em and Ted without anyone getting too emotional on either side, when it came time for Mikey and Deb to leave, the tears began to flow. Michael and Deb had been a part of Brian's life for so long, none of them knew how they'd be able to function without seeing one another every day. It had been hard enough when Deb had quit working and the diner had ceased to be their hang-out place but to be an ocean apart seemed impossible. Especially since Brian didn't know if this would be the last time he'd ever see Deb alive again. She was getting up there in age and had more bad days than good. Holding her somewhat frail frame in his arms, Brian kissed her and told her the one thing he'd never said to her before, "I love you."

Justin was in just as bad a shape as Brian. He'd never forgotten how Deb had taken him in after he'd left home or the way she'd helped take care of him after the bashing. She'd been a second mom to him, as she had been with Brian, and he loved her—if not as much as Brian, he loved her enough to make him hate leaving her behind. Wiping his eyes numerous times, he kissed her cheek and walked her to the car. Leaving Brian and Mikey to say goodbye on the front steps.

"Guess I can't call you everyday now, huh?" asked Michael.

"You can email me. You already do a dozen times a day."

Michael grimaced. "Guess I've been kind of a pain, huh?"

Brian threw his arm over his shoulder. "Nope."

"Not even when that football player's friends kicked the shit out of you for defending me?"

"Not even then." He smiled crookedly. "You saved my life, you know?"

"When?"

"All the time," he said. "I wouldn’t have made it if it hadn't been for you and Deb."

Michael rubbed his eyes. "Shit. I said I wouldn't do this. That I would be happy for you." He wiped his nose with his shirtsleeve and Brian winced inwardly. No matter how much Michael changed, he'd always remain the same person inside. For which he was very grateful. "I am happy for you, you know that, don't you?"

"I know, Mikey."

"So this is it. No more Brian and Mikey's Excellent Adventures."

"Are you kidding? We've been living the craziest, best adventure for years." At Michael's confused look, he explained, "Life, Mikey."

Sliding his arms around his best friend, Michael held him tight then let him go. "So," he asked, "any regrets?"

"Not a one."

"I love you."

"You too. Always have, always will." Pecking his best friend on the lips at the car, Brian whispered, "Later, Mikey," and a tear crept down his cheek. As he stood watching Michael and Deb go, Justin slipped an arm around his waist and laid his head against his chest. After a moment, Brian said, "You think the Munchers' guestroom bed is good for bouncing?"

Eyes shining, Justin laughed. "Let's go find out."

"Still got one more person to say goodbye to," Brian reminded him.

Xavier.

Who waited with Gus on the porch. Gus smooched both his dads and went to wait in the car for his lover.

The thought still caught Brian off-guard sometimes, that his son was lovers with Justin's ex-lover. With the only man who had ever seriously posed a threat to their relationship. Kenneth had caused him a world of pain but, at no point, had he seriously considered leaving Justin. That hadn't been an option. But Xavier had taken Justin away from him. Hadn't been able to keep him but he had taken him away and the subsequent fallout from that episode had blanketed them for months before they could fully shake it off and move forward. If he and Xavier weren't bosom buddies, at least they'd become friendly acquaintances and he respected Xavier for his work and for the man he'd become. So it was with genuine fondness that Brian shook Xavier's hand and said, "Take care of each other," giving the one thing that he could to Xavier and Gus' relationship: his blessing.

"You too," replied Xavier.

Brian passed into the house.

The two friends stood saying nothing, then embraced one another, Justin clasping the back of Xavier's head, his hair still thick, braided and drawn through a ring.

"Nana Rose do this?" he asked and Xavier laughed.

"Would you believe Gus? He's a fast learner."

"He's Brian Kinney's son."

"And yours."

Justin nodded. "And mine."

Knowing how Justin's mind worked, Xavier said, "He's not a consolation prize. He's the real deal."

"I know. You take care. Tell Nana Rose I expect her to come and visit us in Cetona."

Xavier bobbed his head then brushed his lips over Justin's and headed for the car and Gus. Just like his father, Gus tore off out of the driveway like he was leaving the starting line at Le Mans.

Shaking his head, Justin went inside the house and hoped the other kids would be on their way soon because he and Brian had some bouncing to do. 

 

That it would be difficult to say goodbye, they'd known; that it would be impossible, they'd feared. Huddled together in the terminal, their family seemed unable to let them go. All of them, even Brian and Indy were teary-eyed: she blamed her tears on hormones from the delivery, he didn't even attempt to explain his. More than once he looked down at his tickets, knowing that he and Justin should go soon, but unable to say the words that would sever them from their family. But time was merciless and, at last, it was time for them go on alone.

"This isn't goodbye," Justin told Mel and Lindsay as he hugged them, "cause we'll see you next year, for Christmas."

"It's a plan," Mel agreed. "Just make sure there's plenty of rooms between your room and ours. The last thing I want is to have to listen to you and the asshole going at it all night."

"Fuck-ing," said Brian. "Come on, Mel, you can say it. Fuck-ing."

"Fuck you, asshole," she said but she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Take care."

"You too." He bestowed a kiss on Daphne's cheek. "Who's the hottest doctor in Pittsburgh?"

"I am."

He smiled. "Good girl. Always know your worth."

Justin hugged her tight. "Call me when you get there," she told him. "I want to hear all about the hot, young Italian boys."

"Sorry," he replied. "I'm not allowed to look."

"You can look," Brian said, "you just can't touch."

Lindsay laughed. "I'd think that would be more of a problem for you than Justin."

Brian smirked. "You know me too well."

"Well enough to know that you wouldn't dare." He shook his head. "I've always wanted this for you. For you to be happy."

"We did it," he said. "And we didn't fuck it up."

"Or them," she said, gesturing to the kids. "You did a pretty good job, Pa."

"You didn't do so badly yourself, Ma."

As they embraced, she whispered, "Love you."

"You too." Releasing her, he turned to their kids. As if by cue, both he and Justin hugged Jake and held him. "You need anything, you call us."

"We mean it. Anything at all. Anytime. Okay?"

"Yeah." He wiped his eyes. Then said in a choked voice, "I don't want you to go."

"I know," said Justin.

"But I want you to be happy."

"We want you to be happy too."

"So don't wait too long to say something to Lena," Brian reminded him. "The good ones will get away from you if you're not quick." He looked down at Justin. "And once you have her, hold on to her. Don't let go." Giving him a final squeeze, they found Indy at their side, Jett cradled in her arms. The baby seemed content despite the noise of the airport.

Justin took her from Indy and held her up to his face. Kissed her cheek. "Maybe we'll come visit you for your first birthday. Would you like that, Jett?" The baby gurgled. "Don't forget your Grandpa Justin, okay?"

"She won't," Indy promised. "Or her Grandpa Brian."

While Justin held her, Brian kissed Jett as well. "Look at those eyes. She's going to be a heartbreaker."

"Like her grandpa?" asked Indy. She paused. "You're breaking my heart, you know that, don't you?"

"You'll survive. You're too damn much like me not to."

Indy threw her arms around her father and nodded. Then, while Brian held Jett, she hugged Justin as well. Afterwards, she took the baby and joined her moms and Jake.

Brian slipped his arm through Gus'. "Come on, Sonny Boy, walk your old man to the gate," he said. Together he and Gus and Justin headed for the security gate after which they'd part. "Look after them," he told his son, meaning the rest of the kids. "You're the eldest, so I expect you to take care of them."

"And take care of yourself," said Justin. "You work too hard. I worry about you, that you're not getting enough rest, not eating enough... You're too skinny."

"Genetics," said Gus with a shrug. "Besides, Nana Rose said she'd try and fatten me up."

"Are they really moving to New York?" asked Justin. That had been a relatively recent development, one which he still didn't completely believe.

"That's what Xavier says." Then he added, "But even if he doesn't, we'll find a way to make it work. Even if I have to move down there. I can't lose him."

"Then don't," Brian said. "You do what you have to; don't ever be too proud to fight for what you want. Worst thing that can ever happen is for you to wake up one day and realize that you've wasted your whole, fuckin' life being stupid." He checked his watch, exchanged glances with Justin. It was time to go. Brusquely embracing his eldest son, Brian nodded, too emotional to speak. He and Gus exchanged kisses and left it at that.

"I remember the first time Brian held you. You reached out and touched his face like you knew he was your daddy." He looked fondly at his son. "I think you did." They held one another and then parted with a kiss.

Gus watched them go, their images becoming watery. Then he wiped his face and rejoined his family. 

 

6

 

For as long as he lived, he didn't think he'd ever forget a moment of this past Christmas. The kids had come, minus Daphne and the Munchers, who'd said they wanted to spend the holidays at home and alone for a change. Daphne had accepted an invitation to spend Christmas and New Year's with the latest in a string of long-term boyfriends who couldn’t quite make the jump to husband. Not that they didn't try, she just wasn't interested. She often said that if it'd been good enough for Oprah, it was good enough for her.

So Gus and Xavier had come along with Jake and Lena and Indy and Jett, the ten-year-old complaining about the lack of kids to play with. She'd been bugging her mother to have another child but Indy had informed her that the baby factory had shut down for good once she'd been born. Although Jake and Lena had been married for years and were both in their early thirties, they still weren't quite ready to have a child, being heavily involved with building their respective practices. Gus and Xavier hadn't completely ruled out the possibility but they enjoyed their life too much to seriously think about complicating it any further. They loved being able to drop everything to run off to Zurich for a week of skiing or down to Brazil for Carnival. Besides, they didn't know any women willing to have a child with or for them as Rennie had unequivocally said, "Fuck no," the one time they'd mentioned it to her. Secretly, Brian thought they were more than happy with her answer as they hadn't really wanted to be parents.

He knew how they felt. Not about not wanting kids but the desire to be alone. Since moving from Pittsburgh ten years ago, he and Justin had become even closer. Sometimes it surprised him that they didn't dream the same dreams, their thoughts had become so entwined. Like two trees whose trunks had become intertwined, they supported one another and strengthened one another weathering any and all storms. Even when their family had descended upon them like whirlwinds they'd managed to maintain their equanimity, their love for one another radiating a peace that had buoyed them though the various tempests that had erupted during the kids' visit.

Now that their family had gone, they did miss them but they also savored the return of the serenity they'd grown to cherish. It was hard to imagine, looking at them moving about in quiet harmony, that they'd ever been the cause of more than one eruption themselves, that they had lived in a seemingly constant state of chaos. Now they took quiet walks among the olive grove or traipsed the lanes between the grape arbors planning next year's harvest. They worked side-by-side in their rose gardens, supervised small repairs to the walls surrounding the grounds, or roved their land marveling at the beauty of Tuscany all over again. Every day, even after a decade of life in Cetona, there was always a new flower to discover, a path they hadn't taken before, a wine they hadn't tasted. And when they began to feel hemmed in, they hopped in one of the cars and drove to Florence or over to Pisa or down to Rome or Naples. At least once a month, Justin said, "Why didn't we do this sooner?" the move he meant.

More importantly, they had lost none of their passion for one another. Even at sixty and seventy-two respectively, they still found one another beautiful. Justin often traced the lines in Brian's face as if they were a road map to his pleasure. And they were. His pleasure lay in Brian's lean frame, in his loping gait and sinewy arms, in the bristles of his hair which he lopped off indifferently these days, light years removed from fancy salons; it lay in his hazel eyes that still gleamed, still flashed, still pierced; and it lay in his quick mind, his stinging wit, his sharp intellect. After all of these years, Justin's love and desire had not lessened a bit.

Neither had Brian's. For if Justin still found him attractive, he found Justin even more beautiful now than when he was younger. Justin's bright blue eyes still made his stomach flutter when he woke to find them looking down at him and his smile still had the power to banish clouds and foul moods alike but Brian also realized that what he valued most about Justin was his constancy: his rocklike devotion and his unyielding strength.

Now Justin waited impatiently for Brian to join him. "Come to bed," he told him as Brian fussed at the window.

"Let me close the shutters first. Otherwise, it'll be cold as hell in here." He shut them and then climbed into bed.

"Hothouse flower," teased Justin.

"Arthritis," Brian told him.

"Nonsense. Here," Justin said, wrapping his arms around him, "I'll keep you warm." He began kissing Brian's throat and the older man chuckled.

"None of that. I'm tired."

"Just a little…"

"I'm seventy-two-years old, a little's all you're getting these days."

"Still the best, old man," said Justin fondly. "Better than any man I've ever known."

"You haven't known that many men," Brian pointed out.

"Enough. You were just lucky that you got to me first," he bragged.

Brian made a sound of agreement. He had been lucky. "What do you want to do for our anniversary?" It would be their forty-first. Last year they'd gone to Japan and stayed in an inn near a monastery outside of Kyoto. They'd loved waking up to the sound of the prayer bell calling the monks to their morning chant. Justin had found a tiny bell which he sometimes tapped for no reason other than to hear the clear, clarion tones.

"How about Paris?" Justin suggested.

"Sounds good to me." They hadn't been in years. "Maybe we could get our same room in the Hotel du Louvre." Each of the four times they'd been to Paris for an extended stay, they'd booked the same room, the Pissaro suite, an apartment really where the Impressionist painter Camille Pissaro had stayed while producing some of his most famous views of Paris.

"Perfect." Justin snuggled closer to Brian, if that was possible, and rubbed his face against the bare skin of his chest. "I wonder if that patisserie is still there?"

"Everything changes," Brian said. "The world keeps moving on."

"Not here." It was like their own enchanted kingdom where they were forever young and forever in love.

"No," Brian agreed, "maybe not here." As their neighbors were fond of telling them, nothing much changed in Tuscany. Which was, in their opinion, a very good thing as they both believed they'd found a way of life which suited them imminently. Sometimes he wondered why they left home at all.

As if he'd been reading Brian's mind, Justin said, "Or we could just stay home and celebrate alone."

"You wouldn’t mind?"

Tightening his grip on his spouse, Justin smiled. "I wouldn’t mind." 

 

7

 

Justin glanced up as Brian came inside. Raised his face for a kiss. "You get the canvas?"

"Out in the car," Brian said absently.

Attuned to Brian's every mood, Justin put aside the book he was reading. "Something wrong?"

Brian sat next to him on the edge of the sofa. "We need to talk." 

 

8

 

Sometimes he would go outside and sit in the olive grove, just sit as still as he could, and he would pretend that time had stopped, that beyond this moment nothing existed. Tuscany had always been and would always be and if he could somehow match the rhythm of the region, maybe things wouldn't change for him as well. But that was selfish and he realized it. Brian was in pain and the best thing would be—

He couldn't even think it, even as he sat trying to hold back the inevitable. He used no euphemisms, no trite phrases to describe something so profound and final that it defied any and all attempts to come to grips with it. He just kept his mind focused on the task at hand, on the thing that needed doing now, and he tried not to look ahead to the moment when he'd lose him.

The thought had come up on him by surprise and he paused and squeezed his eyes shut and refused to give in to the need to weep. He could do no less than Brian who had only cried twice since coming home with that horrible, black knowledge gnawing away at his belly. Jake had called to say that he and Lena were expecting their first child and Brian had talked to them as if he fully expected to be there when the baby was born and then he'd hung up the telephone and wept for almost half an hour.

He'd accepted his death as he had anticipated it for years. In a way, it had been a relief to finally know with certainty that he would die soon. He didn't have to wonder any more. Yet he had not given up, given in to dying. He'd raged against the dying of the light, lived as he'd always done. They'd had ten years in Tuscany and he'd wanted ten more. Death, when it caught him, would have to catch him balls against the wall. He'd refused to change his life, had fought the pain and gone on with their plans as if he weren't being devoured from the inside.

Until the day had come when the pain had shaken him so violently that he'd crouched down on the floor of the bathroom and clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. Justin had come in on him and helped him to bed and taken out the drugs that the doctor had prescribed for that moment when it came. Tears streaming down his face, Brian had swallowed them and closed his eyes, exhausted. The fight was finally over.

They'd decided not to tell the rest of their family. There was nothing any of them could do, not even Jake who had specialized in oncology. Nothing but pity Brian and mourn him while he was still alive and he hadn't wanted that, had refused to be treated like an invalid, like the walking dead. Justin had agreed, even though he'd known that their anger would be directed against him once Brian was gone. But it had been easier to cope with Brian's fast approaching death on his own. With the rest of them around, he might have been tempted to let down his guard, to give in to the desire to feel sorry for himself. As it was, he'd been Brian's sole support and caretaker and he hadn't had the luxury of self-pity.

Only it was so hard now. A few weeks back, Brian had taken to his bed for what they both knew was the last time. No more would he speed down the white road from their house to the highway, clouds of dust marking his passage. He would never journey forth from the house alive again. That day, Justin had watched him slip into an uneasy, pain-filled sleep and then he'd paced their land, crying wildly, until exhaustion had taken him into its arms and he'd sat in the olive grove too tired to walk a hundred yards back to the house.

The doctor had come out on Monday; at the end of his visit, he'd taken Justin aside and warned him that it wouldn’t be much longer. "A week," he'd said and Justin had wrapped his arms around his chest and held himself so tightly that he hadn't been able to breathe easily. It hadn't been the doctor's prediction alone but the fact that it corroborated Brian's; Brian had told him that it would be only a matter of days.

Last night had been especially difficult, the drugs offering no relief from the ceaseless pain, the unending digging and tearing. That's what Brian had said it felt like, as if something was burrowing through him. _"A pair of ragged claws,"_ he'd said, eyes brightening a bit. "I finally understand the connection."

"What?" Justin had asked.

"Eliot." Breath. "Prufrock. Crab. Cancer."

This morning he'd refused to eat. Summoned enough strength to turn his head but not enough to speak. Taking the broth back to the kitchen, Justin had poured it down the sink and rested his head on his arms.

Now that it was lunchtime, he thought he'd try again. Brian had slept most of the morning while he read from a chair he'd positioned near the bed weeks ago but when he looked up from his reading around eleven, he noticed a pair of shiny, hazel eyes watching him. Putting his book aside, he sat gingerly on the bed next to Brian. "Hey."

"Hey." His voice was so faint, Justin had bend closer just to hear him.

"Feel like eating something?"

"Trying… watch my figure," he joked.

Where he'd always been lean, he was now gaunt, the fine bones of his face in sharp relief against his pillow. They were lucky they'd resisted getting one of those video phones that everyone had these days. They'd felt that it hadn't been in keeping with the house's character. He was grateful for their decision now when they wouldn't have been able to fool anyone. It was one thing to hear Brian's papery thin voice and wonder if he was okay and quite another to see him and to know immediately that he was dying. More to comfort himself, Justin stroked his cheek. Brian winced and Justin caught his breath. "Do you need a shot?"

"No." He swallowed with difficulty. "Need to see you smile, Sunshine." Justin tried but he couldn't, shook his head. "Remember… when we first met? I asked you… if you liked Special K?" Justin chuckled, then choked back a sob. "Baby, don't cry." But he laid his head on Brian's chest and cried because after this, what would be left but memories that would never be enough? Although Justin was careful not to put too much weight on him, Brian still ached but he said nothing until Justin was through. Then he brushed his fingers over Justin's lips. "Kiss me." Justin raised his head and pressed his lips to Brian's. "I've never… stopped loving you," Brian whispered. "Not even… for a minute. Never will."

"Me neither," Justin said, tears dropping down on Brian's cheeks as he rested his forehead against his. "Not ever."

Brian closed his eyes and, in his mind, he could see Justin smiling, a white scarf tossed gallantly around his neck, so bright, so beautiful that it made him take a breath.

He released it.

And did not take another. 

 

9

 

 _The sun shines on this funeral  
The same as on a birth   
The way it shines on everything   
That happens here on Earth   
It rolls across the western sky   
And back into the sea   
And spends the day's last rays   
Upon this fucked-up family   
So long old pal_ 2 

 

**Songs**

**"Here We Go," by Jon Brion, JR Motion Picture Music Co./Sony-ATV Tunes, LLC (ASCAP) from the _Punch Drunk Love_ soundtrack.  
"Enough to Be On Your Way" by James Taylor, Country Road Music, Inc. (BMI), 1997 from the album, Hourglass.**


End file.
